In the Real World
by bloody.pinprick
Summary: Everyone wonders what it would be like to be 'sucked in' to the world of Death Note, its characters, and its story. Nik Mills wonders that too, but she never expected that things would go the other way around. When she meets the 'real' L at a local cafe, she has her own mystery to solve. After all, who'd believe a claim like that?
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note:_ _Howdy! Thanks for taking a look at my story. I started this a few months ago - I have a few chapters written by this point. I personally like the story idea, but it's tough writing since this story is both pre-canon and not in the Death Note world. As a result, **whether or not I continue writing this depends on your reactions.** If you read and like it, please drop a review. If you don't, I promise my feelings won't be hurt. Constructive criticism is cool (:  
_ _Thanks~!_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

* * *

Let me just start by telling you that if you're looking for a fangirl-sucked-into-Death-Note fic, turn around. This isn't the place for you. In fact, this is the opposite.

Actually, I probably should have informed you of my name first. The name's Nicolette Mills, but I go by Nik. Is Nik a guy's name? Technically. Do I care? No. Do you have a problem with it? I don't care.

Now that we've covered the formalities, I'll move on to the story.

I was wandering around town. It was pretty innocent, although in a small town like mine, everything has to be innocent or everyone will know about it. I was basically window shopping. Checking out the old furniture in the local antique stores, y'know? Looking inside the window of books hope and wishing I actually had enough cash to actually buy something from our town's tiny GameStop.

After a while, I sat down at the cafe. It's called the Happy Day Cafe or something cheesy and rhymy like that, but what matters is that the mocha there is incredible and so are the chocolate muffins. I swear, those things are the size of my head.

So, that day, I got a muffin, a mocha, and sat down in the booth next to the window. The booth was pretty worn out and God knows it was ugly as they come, but it was comfortable too. Not only that, but there was sunlight bathing me as I snacked on the awesomeness that was that muffin. I'd take a bite of muffin followed by a sip of mocha, enjoy the sunlight, and close my eyes for a minute or so before repeating the process.

Okay, so I might have been going overboard a little. In my defense, it was pretty good stuff.

Anyways, the important thing is that after a while, this really annoying shadow started to block out the sunlight. Obviously, the really annoying shadow was connected to a really annoying guy. When I realized that whoever was causing the shadow wasn't moving, I turned to the window.

The light was to their back so I couldn't see their features too well, but what I could see was enough to tell me that they were a cosplayer. They had a painfully hunched back and they hand at least part of their hand in their mouth. They wore jeans that were a couple of sizes too large and a baggy white t-shirt. Even their jet-black hair seemed to naturally defy gravity in the right way. Actually, the only difference between them and L was that they were my age. Probably sixteen, give or take a year or two.

They were staring through the window at my chocolate muffin. Good cosplay or no, that was off limits. I glared at them through the window and they turned around. Admittedly, I was relieved. The staring was pretty creepy.

And then the little bell on the door jingled and I was like, _Great. I'm doomed._

Much to my surprise, the guy walked right past me and up to the counter. Then, he ordered a muffin. Obviously, being my age, his voice wasn't quite as low and sexy as L's. But he had the monotone down for sure. I was impressed. Upon receiving it, he paid up and sat in the more shadowed area of the cafe. I could see his face better at that point, and the guy was a perfect replica of L. He had the right facial shape - which, by the way, is hot - the beige skin, the long-but-not-too-long nose, and the piercing gray eyes. I knew he must be a pretty devoted cosplayer, too, because the black bags under his eyes were _not_ makeup.

I'm sort of shy, but I figured I'd offer the poor guy a coffee. Maybe he was like me and he wasn't carrying enough cash to get what he actually wanted.

I crumpled my muffin liner and threw it into the garbage, then slid out of the booth. It only took a few steps to get to his table, and I didn't have to say a word to get his attention. The instant I got there, those steel-colored eyes were locked on mine. I would have been intensely uncomfortable with it, but I just got over it and asked anyways. "Do you want a coffee? You look pretty tired."

He looked me up and down and I briefly considered what he was seeing. A girl with wild brown hair that's more like a briar patch than something that belongs on someone's head. Other than her hair, she's small in every way. Thanks to a freakishly rare form of ocular albinism, her eyes are a pale violet. Her lips are full but her skin is quite pale. She's wearing cheap skinny jeans, probably from Walmart, and a plain short sleeved T-shirt the exact color of the worn asphalt just outside.

That was me.

"That sounds excellent. I'm afraid I didn't have the money on hand to get one for myself," he explained, proving me right on my earlier point

"Cool," I said, nodding. "Go ahead and order. I'll pay."

He ordered a simple black coffee, which made me happy because it was cheap. After he sat down I sort of invited myself to sit across from him, figuring that my spur-of-the-moment generosity kind of entitled me to do so. He grabbed the canister of sugar packets from the counter and pulled out almost fifteen of them. At first I thought it was a mistake, but then he ripped them open and dumped them all into his coffee.

I cringed. "Are you actually going to drink that?"

"Yes, of course," he answered, taking his first sip while sugar was still floating on top of the bitter liquid. "I wouldn't ask you to buy something for me if I didn't plan on making use of it."

 _Well, looky there. He even speaks in the funky way that L does._ "Oh. I was just asking because the last time I had coffee that sweet, I couldn't even take a single swallow of it."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I have always preferred very sweet flavors over others."

"I can see that," I agreed as I looked at the circle of empty paper that had held a huge muffin about five minutes before. "Anyways, I'm Nik."

"Adrian," he returned, and I privately thought that he looked nothing like an Adrian. Still, since he didn't introduce himself as L or Ryuzaki or Ryuga, I figured that he was at least partially out of cosplay mode for the time being.

"Nice to meet you," I said as I stood up, glancing at my watch.

"Wait," he called, which was really not necessary since I was still standing right in front of him. "Could you give me directions to the Iron Horse Hotel? I'm completely lost."

"Oh? No problem," I responded. I thought his GPS must have been broken and taken him to the tiny town of Youngsville instead of Raleigh or wherever his hotel was. He was probably headed to a convention.

I had my phone pulled out of my pocket and the directions were halfway loaded when I noticed that Adrian was staring at me. Well, at my phone. I glanced at the case of my Samsung Galaxy S4 in case there was something gross on it.

Nothing.

"Uh, Adrian...?"

"What is that?" Adrian asks curiously. Not to mention seriously.

"It's... a cell phone?" I replied, raising my eyebrows.

"A cell phone."

"Yes. Oh, your directions are... woah! Adrian, that hotel is in Wisconsin!" I gasped, staring at the map that popped up on my screen. Adrian had to be pulling my leg.

"Yes, it is," Adrian agreed.

"We're in North Carolina right now, Adrian," I pointed out. I looked him over more carefully. At first I thought he had deprived himself of sleep in an effort to imitate L, but I was now considering that the lack of sleep stemmed from some kind of drug use. He did look sort of sickly, but I didn't want to judge based off of that.

"Hmm, that could be problematic," Adrian said, his already wide eyes forcing themselves yet wider. "Your... cell phone. May I use it to call someone?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, handing him my phone and setting it on the calling screen in case he didn't know how to use it. So the guy didn't have his own phone, didn't know what state he was in, looked like a drug addict, and couldn't afford his own coffee. But he was cosplaying! It didn't add up.

He held up my phone in the L way, like he thought it was carrying the plague, and tapped the number onto the screen. Then he held it to his ear, and I watched Adrian's face fall into an uneasy frown. "It didn't work," he declared, pressing the phone back into my hands.

 _What, like the number didn't exist?_ "Try it again. Maybe you just got the number wrong."

"I did not," Adrian said firmly, refusing to take the phone. "The number was out of service."

"Adrian, where are your parents?" I asked, starting to get worried about him. I could now add 'calling numbers that don't exist' onto my list of Adrian's problems.

"They're... absent," he answers flatly, and I feel a spark of rage fly in my chest.

"Look, I get that you're cosplaying, but you're taking this too far!" I snap

"Cosplaying?" He sounded absolutely clueless. I had never felt so pissed before. It was like this guy had convinced himself that he was actually L, and that we were stuck in the 90's when L would have been 16.

"Yeah, cosplaying. You know, when you imitate a fictional character for fun? Believe it or not, L from Death Note is fictional, man!" I snapped, my voice loud enough that I was drawing attention from the employees.

"This is a very interesting dream," Adrian murmured and scratched his head.

"Dream? The only dream you have is that you're actually L. Wake up, man," I ordered, my simmering rage beginning to come to a boil.

Adrian glanced into the glass of the window and stared into his reflection. He looked it up and down, as if checking to see if it was mutated. _What in God's name is he doing?_ He then stared at me, specifically at my limbs. I began to feel very uncomfortable, but I realized that he was actually checking the signs. If he was dreaming, a deformed reflection would tell him so. Slightly malformed beings would also indicate a dream. The problem was that I was very conscious, and I knew it was no dream.

"I am not dreaming," he sighed finally. "I have no money, no place to go, and I am apparently a fictional character."

I decided to be blunt. "Are you on something? Seriously, Adrian." It was whispered, so the employees wouldn't hear it, but Adrian still looked very offended.

"No, I am not abusing or misusing drugs in any way," he hissed, anger flashing in his steely eyes.

"Then why are you so convinced that you're a Death Note character?" I shot back coldly, meeting his gaze.

"What is Death Note?"

"A popular manga that inspired an anime and several video games. Not to mention a spin-off novel and some movies. You know that, though. You're cosplaying as a main character," I pointed out stubbornly.

By now, I'd wandered out of the cafe and my desperately confused new friend was trailing behind me. "So," he asked hesitantly, "what is my name? My... character, I mean?"

"You know that already!" I snapped hotly, glaring at him over my shoulder. "It's L Lawliet."

There was a split second where everything was calm, but in the next instant, he was nearly on top of me. His developing voice was suddenly low and threatening. "How did you know that?"

"Uh, the true name card in the How to Read volume of the manga?" I said/asked, feeling sufficiently creeped out.

"This is nonsense. Why do you insist upon telling me that you learned my name from some comics? The idea is preposterous and I will not -"

"I, unlike you, can prove my claims!" I hissed. "There's a poster of you in the window of the bookstore. You wanna see it?" I spun around and shoved him backwards as I was highly uncomfortable with the close proximity.

"Yes, of course," he answered as he regained his footing, although he was looking at me as if I'd grown an extra head. I knew the truth. I wasn't the crazy one.

"Then come on," I instructed, taking a sudden left turn. "And if you get too close to me, I'll kick your ass."

Adrian stayed a safe distance away for the remainder of the walk.

* * *

Even as Adrian stared at the poster in the window, I felt like something was horribly wrong. The guy was practically in shock. His mouth hung open and his eyes were more bizarrely wide than I'd seen them yet, and his breathing had changed. I wondered if he had a head injury or something, because I knew there had to be some reason for it all.

"Nik... I have nowhere to go..." Adrian castes me a doleful glance, and I caught his drift almost instantly.

"No, Adrian! My foster parents would kill me if they came home from vacation and some random guy was camped out in their house!" I cried. "Besides, I barely know you!"

"Please, I don't know what to do right now. It would only be for tonight..." Adrian asked, his voice sounding almost desperate instead of its usual monotony.

I didn't know what to do, really. All of my instincts were telling me that Adrian was probably sick somehow, and that I should take him to a hospital. He seemed truly baffled and very convinced that he was L Lawliet, and I didn't know what to do as a result. "Adrian, we should go to the cops. Maybe they can help you find your parents," I offered, feeling hopeless.

Adrian simply gave me the saddest look in the world. It was one that told me he was questioning his own sanity, and I couldn't take it. "Maybe we should..."

"Adrian, do you have an ID on you? A license or something?" I asked, turning around since I had begun dragging him to the police station by the arm.

"No, the only thing I had was the money I used to buy a muffin," he answered, his monotone reappearing but his face still full of shock and confusion.

"Damn," I responded, biting my lip. "What's your last name?"

"Lawliet," he told me, much to my frustration.

"Adrian Lawliet?" I snapped.

"No. Adrian was just an alias. I thought it up on the spot," he answered.

"You don't even know your name?" I cried, just as we reached the police station. We were about ten feet from the doors when Adrian halted, and I was unable to pull him. I simply wasn't strong enough. "Adrian!"

"They won't be able to find my parents," he muttered.

"How do you know that if you can't even remember your own name?" I yelled, tugging on his sleeve.

"I do remember my name... As do you, apparently," he snapped, pulling his hand away. His raven locks had fallen into his face and I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew from his next words that he was truly terrified. "They'll put me in a foster home..."

"I'm in a foster home. It isn't that bad," I argued. "And for the last time, your name can't be L! He's fictional!"

"I will not risk being put into foster care," he murmured, walking away and ignoring my cries.

"Adrian, stop! What if you're sick or something?" And then I uttered the words that would change my life. "Just... just stay at my house! We'll figure this out!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

The instant those words came out of my mouth I regretted them. After all, I didn't know Adrian and neither did my foster parents. When they got home from vacation, whenever that was, they'd be pissed.

Still, there was no taking them back. Adrian stopped in his tracks and turned slowly. His head was cocked to the left only just a little and his hair fell in feathery locks across his face. Still, I could see his eyes, deep dark pits of confusion that now had a glimmer of hope. I couldn't have denied him even if I'd wanted to.

"If you're certain," Adrian said finally, and I frowned. There is such a thing as getting to in character. At that rate, Adrian would pull an L on me and not thank me until I was about to kick him out.

"I am. I can't leave you wandering about on your own," I pointed out, shrugging. I walked toward Adrian and stopped a good five feet away from him.

"You could," he corrected softly.

"But I won't. My house is this way," I interrupted, and turned suddenly. As I walked, I could feel Adrian's eyes square in the center of the back of my head. It killed me, that gaze, and I couldn't focus. My mind was bouncing from topic to topic, although they all centered around the strange boy who was going to be camped out at my foster home for the next little while.

I cringed, privately wondering if my foster parents would send me away when they found out. I had been bounced around enough without Adrian's help.

The silence seemed to be eating away at my very soul, but I couldn't say anything. What could I say? I was standing around with a kid who had amnesia or something, who'd convinced himself that he was a fictional character! What if he was on drugs or something? Sure, he didn't display any signs of it, but I was still worried. Who wouldn't be?

Put yourself in my shoes. I'm sure you think you'd fangirl if you met the real L, but let's be honest with ourselves. Would you really believe 'L' about his identity? Heck, no! Not unless you're crazy, or dumb, for that matter. You'd probably call the cops! As it was, I was on the verge of doing so.

We reached the home of my foster parents. It looked a lot smaller than it really was and the sides were mildewed, but the inside was pretty nice. I walked up the cobblestone path to the front door and opened the door to let Adrian in.

The house was made up of a living room, one-and-a-half bathrooms, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and an attic. I slept in the attic because it meant I could decorate the place however I wanted and I could leave the window open at night. Unfortunately, this meant that the spare bedroom had no mattress for Adrian.

"Uh, make yourself at home, I guess," I muttered. "Bathroom's down the hall."

Adrian nodded, as if to show that he was aware of me, and crouched on the couch. I was briefly reminded of a gargoyle and I turned around before I could giggle. "Nik," Adrian called before I could get to the kitchen. "May I request your full name?"

"Nicolette Mills," I answered, turning around only to find that he wasn't even looking at me. I sighed in frustration. He had done that a few times. It was like he was unaware that it's polite to look at the people you're talking to.

And, just like that, I left for the kitchen. Stressful situations like that never failed to make me hungry.

* * *

"Adrian," I said, running down from upstairs. I'd been reading my Naruto manga, but it was morning now. Surprisingly enough, I'd actually been able to sleep knowing that Adrian was in the house. I suppose it was because if something weird happened, I'd know exactly who it was. "Get a shower, please. We're going out today. It's important."

"For what reason?" Adrian asked, narrowing his eyes. I wondered if, true to his character, he'd stayed up all night. Probably so.

"I wanted to find out if you were drugged," I answered flatly. "You won't let the police figure out who you are, so we'll have to do it ourselves. Now hurry up. Please."

"If I have been drugged or assaulted, it will be reported to the police," Adrian said, not moving a muscle.

"No, it won't. I have a friend who's willing to run any tests for us," I snapped. I was feeling very irritable that morning. It had something to do with the less-than-perfect reality of my femininity, and if Adrian pushed my buttons it was more than likely that I'd bite his head off.

"I -"

"Get your shower already," I cut in, glowering at him over a cup of coffee. I supposed that Adrian must have made coffee last night since the pot was full of it and it was room temperature, but it was nothing that the microwave couldn't fix.

Adrian scowled at me and wandered into the bathroom I'd showed him. I heard the door close and the click of the lock, and then I heard the shower turn on. I relished in the quiet loneliness of the room and collapsed on the couch.

My friend, Lacey Jackson, was a doctor of some kind. In reality I didn't know her that well, but Adrian didn't need to know that. In fact, all he needed to know was that I'd sworn her to secrecy, and although I'd pay for the tests, we would be the only ones who knew of the results.

She was a tall woman with greying blonde hair that she tied into a ponytail. Lacey always wore khakis and button-up shirts under her lab coat, and she always wore these awful white sneakers that were obviously from Walmart. "Why should I wear my nice shoes to work?" she'd ask, and I'd just roll my eyes.

The shower water was shut off and I could hear some rustling before the door opened. I leaned into the back of the couch as Adrian walked over to me.

He was wearing a towel.

Just a towel, pure white, around his waist.

"Oh," I said weakly. "You wouldn't have any clothes, would you?" Adrian simply shook his head and shuffled awkwardly, apparently just as aware as I was that he was that close to baring it all.

No way would Adrian fit in any of my foster dad's stuff, but I didn't exactly have any boxers. Yeah, I'd gone through a stage where I didn't exactly dress in a feminine way, but even then I wore panties.

"Hold on," I commanded and ran to my foster parents' room. Miley and Mikey wouldn't know anything about it, and what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Still, it disgusted me to rifle around Mikey's underwear drawer. I grabbed a pair of green plaid boxers from the very top and promised myself I'd never do anything like that again.

"Put these on," I commanded, tossing them in Adrian's general direction and fleeing upstairs. In my room, there was a box full of guys' clothes. Most of them were just T-shirts ill-befitting a girl, but some of them had words or bands on them. I figured a band tee might help Adrian stand out less, so I grabbed a Three Days Grace short sleeve shirt and a pair of black jeans. Luckily, the jeans were a couple of sizes too big for me, and there was a hope that Adrian might actually fit in them.

When I got downstairs, Adrian was standing exactly where he had been. The only difference was that he was wearing the boxers and the white towel was pooled around his feet. I was suddenly, and painfully, aware that he'd probably changed right there, where he stood.

He was barechested. The skin on his chest was just as pale as the skin anywhere else, and I took that to mean that he really was indoorsy. And here's to all the fangirls out there: it wasn't 'hot'. Adrian's chest wasn't tight with muscle, and his abdomen didn't resemble a brick wall in the least. He looked soft, like he'd never worked hard in his life, much less worked out on a regular basis.

"Adrian, here's some stuff you ought to fit in," I called, tossing the ball of fabric to him. He caught it perfectly and pulled it on then and there. I suppose he was just really comfortable in his own skin.

Needless to say, he looked really weird in the stuff, but I supposed it would have to do. "I don't have shoes," he reported.

I glanced at his feet. They were pretty big, a sure sign that he'd be really tall when he finished growing. "Just borrow my foster dad's sandals. They're sitting by the door." I pushed open the front door and glanced back at the pools of darkness that were Adrian's irises. "I'll wait in my car."

I had a Jeep. It was ugly and beaten up, but I was lucky that Miley and Mikey even had a car to loan out to all their foster kids. I wasn't going to complain about it, and I was especially grateful for the use of it now.

About thirty second later, Adrian clambered into the backseat. I raised my eyebrows. "Don't you want shotgun?"

"I do not see why we have the need for guns at this time," he responded, confused.

I shook my head and clarified. "The front seat."

Adrian took the time to look slightly relieved. "No, thank you." He sat in his usual crouch back there, so I shrugged. At least if he was sitting in the backseat, any policemen would be less likely to notice his unbuckled seat belt. There were never any wrecks around here, but I'd get a ticket anyways.

"Alright, let's go," I said, and noticed that Adrian was holding a couple of gallon Ziploc bags that seemed to contain all of his clothes. At first I was confused, but quickly realized that Adrian probably wanted to see if there were any strange chemicals in them.

The drive to the hospital was a short one, and when we get inside, he seems nervous. "Do you not like doctors or something?" I asked curiously, glancing at him out of the corner of my eyes. He was kind of sweaty, and his lips were pressed together, hard.

"I am usually attended by a privately employed physician," he informed me, his eyes brimming with distrust.

The corners of my lips turned down. Was he starting to remember something about his old life, or was he saying that L was attended by a private physician. I knew that if I asked, I'd only set him off, but... "You were, or L was?"

"I am L," Adrian snapped, his eyes shooting daggers at me.

"Yeah, whatever," I said, and stopped just outside the door I'd been told to. I rapped on it with my knuckles and the door opened. And there Lacey was, welcoming the two of us as we shuffled into her office.

An hour later, we were leaving. Adrian had had his blood drawn, he'd peed in a cup, and his clothes were back in Lacey's office. She had promised to call us with results.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" I asked, stretching out. It was meant as a rhetorical question, so when Adrian opened his mouth, I cut him off. "We should get you some clothes."

"That would be nice, yes," he muttered, sliding into the backseat of my Jeep and closing the door with a slam.

"I hope you don't mind Walmart. I don't have the money for designer crap," I said, revving the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Not at all," Adrian said, and I felt a pang of relief. Not that it would have made any difference in what we actually did, but it was nice to know that he didn't mind cheap clothes. After all, that was what I wore all the time.

"So, Adrian," I began, deciding to voice the question that very suddenly made itself known. "How did you end up here, anyways?"

"I woke up in a chair in a motel room. I had no way of contacting help and I left to find myself in an unfamiliar small town," Adrian said simply, not sounding at all disturbed by this fact.

"A motel room?" I repeated, my mouth suddenly dry. The implication behind the idea of waking up to find yourself not only in a strange town, but in a motel room, is a dismal one. I was sure he had considered that, but it was beyond me how he was staying so calm about it.

Adrian seemed to sense my discomfort, and his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. They were confused, as they had been since I met him, but there was also a sense of confidence and certainty in the depths of his eyes. "I was not sexually assaulted, Nicolette," Adrian monotoned firmly, his voice calm and collected. There was no hesitation, as if sexual assault, or the idea of it, was something he dealt with every day.

I choked. "Woah. Uh, okay. Th-that's good," I muttered. Then, more loudly, "Do you know where you were before that?"

Adrian looked me in the eyes again and I knew I wouldn't like his answer. I was expecting him to say no, but instead, he informed me, "I was walking to a bakery in Wisconsin. It was just across the street from my hotel, and Watari allowed me to go alone as a result." My eyes narrowed noticeably, and I tore my gaze from his. "I assume you know who Watari is?"

I refused to acknowledge him for the remainder of the morning.

* * *

 _I decided to go ahead and post chapter two because of your reactions to the first chapter (: Please, tell me what you think!_


	3. Chapter 3 - Important AN

**_Important Author's Note!  
_** _I plan on incorporating one other Death Note character into this story at a later date. The trouble is, I can't decide who it should be. I've set up a poll on my profile page. Please vote - I could use the help, and I need to hear your opinions before I can write another chapter._

* * *

 **Chap** **ter 3**

* * *

When I got into the house, I went straight into the attic and collapsed on my bed.

I'm sure that all of you who are reading this now are going, "God, Nik! You can't give L the cold shoulder! He won't understand! His social skills totally blow!" Well, you know what? 1) I didn't know he was L. I thought he was a guy called Adrian, and if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that he was either a liar or a nut job. 2) I wasn't trying to punish him. I just needed some time to think about what to do.

Seriously, put yourself in my shoes. What would you have done, really?

Anyways, when I was sitting in my room, staring at the ceiling, I wondered how much of what Adrian kept saying was really imagined. There was a distinct possibility that reality and fantasy was mixing in his head, and that some of what he was saying to me was really, actually true. And I wanted to believe that he was at least telling me a shred of truth, so I hung onto the idea.

Still, I didn't know how I could fact check his stories. And if I found a way to do so only to find out that nothing was true, did that make him a liar or a teenager with an overactive imagination?

Besides that, what if we couldn't figure out who he was? I knew Adrian couldn't live with me forever, and he apparently had something against the system. He couldn't exactly live on his own at the tender age of sixteen, either.

I didn't know what to do with Adrian, and I don't think he knew what to do with me, either.

Finally I headed downstairs. My feelings toward the raven-haired boy on the couch, who was flipping through my foster mom's psychology textbook from college, were cold ones. Still, I knew I needed to put my feelings aside since I had such a limited time to help him out.

"Adrian," I snapped, and he gingerly set the book down on the cushion next to him. "I need you to come with me. Please," I added, just remembering the rules of politeness. Adrian is fast. By the time I reached the stairs, he was literally right behind me. I wondered if he had just climbed over the back of the couch instead of walking around, but I was suddenly very distracted. He smelled - and very strongly so - of my shampoo. Which was in the sink cabinet. My stepdad's shampoo was in the shower for all eyes to see, so it was weird. Still, I didn't feel like explaining every social taboo in existence, so I just put up with it.

"Okay, in here," I muttered, walking into the attic and feeling thankful that I was a relatively neat person. My room was at least clean enough that nothing embarrassing was lying around, and I didn't have to worry about Adrian seeing something I didn't want him to, like dirty undergarments or feminine crap or Fifty Shades of Grey. (By the way, that book sucks.)

He looked kind of awkward and out of place in a girl's room, but I didn't really do anything to remedy it. In fact, I was kind of taking pleasure in it. He had made me feel so much anxiety in the past few days that I figured he kind of had it coming. Instead I sat on my bed and opened my laptop, gesturing him to my side. It wasn't needed. Adrian was so nosy that he'd been there the instant I touched my laptop.

"So, the hotel you were at in Wisconsin," I began, glancing up at his as I opened up Chrome. "What was it called?"

"The Iron Horse Hotel," he answered without hesitating.

I fed it into Google Search and got actual results. So the place was real, but now I needed proof that Adrian had actually been there.

"What name were you registered under?" I asked, pulling out my phone and plugging in the number on their official website. I hoped that they really would tell me whether he was checked in there or not instead of turning me away. I didn't have any other brilliant ideas after this. I was just... stuck.

"Micheal Mills," he answered, looking at my phone in exactly the way he had when we met. It was like he thought it was an alien or something. Like he'd never seen one.

Still, I just ignored it. The most important thing to me was figuring out who he was. I pressed the 'call' button and listened to it ring a few times. Finally, someone picked up. It was a lady with a super perky voice. I imagined that she was blonde and had a nice rack. "Hi, this is the Iron Horse Hotel! Can I help you out?"

"Uh, hi. I need to know if you've got anyone by the name of Michael Mills checked in right now? He told me he was at your hotel but I'm having problems contacting him," I said, silently thinking that it wasn't all untrue in a metaphorical sense.

"Hold on," the woman replied, and I could hear her humming as she did whatever it was that she was doing. "Hm, no. No one by that name has ever checked in here, hon. Sorry."

"Really? Okay, thanks," I responded and hung up. I knew it was a bit rude, but I needed to talk to Adrian, and badly, at that. I set my phone down at the bed and I stared up at him. I was almost worried about how he would react.

"Yes?" he said finally, as if he was expecting a scolding. I bit my lip and shook my head, and watched his face fall into further confusion.

"You've never been checked in there before, Adrian," I whispered, putting a finger on each of my temples. I just didn't know what to do! It seemed as if the world expected too much from me. I had practically been forced to play guardian angel for a stranger, and I was on the verge of tears.

Adrian wasn't telling me anything. I didn't know what to do anymore. I mean, I'd bought him a small wardrobe (all of the same outfit, too!) and was providing him with food and shelter, but I didn't want to continue doing that for someone who was constantly lying to me.

And then that tiny, awful voice in the back of my head said, _What if he isn't lying?_

It was the first time I'd ever thought, even in my wildest dreams, that maybe he was being honest. That maybe he was really a teenaged L, somehow forced into what I knew as the real world. But that was impossible to prove. For Adrian to try and prove, without a doubt, that he was L, would be like trying to undoubtedly proving the existence of God. Both of those things are possibilities, but you just can't prove them. It isn't possible.

Still, I felt like I was questioning my own sanity. I knew that this was real, that it wasn't a dream, but I also knew that nothing made sense. Adrian thought he was a fictional character, I had yet to find any traces of his existence, and now everything was becoming a part of some massive internal conflict. You know: _Am I nutso, or is my life nusto?_

You probably don't know. Very few people have actually, realistically questioned themselves that way.

"I… do not understand my current situation," Adrian muttered, twiddling his thumbs and looking really, truly lost. He must have been desperate to prove that he was telling the truth, because even at that time, I knew that he had no doubt in his mind about who he was.

"Yeah? Well, I don't either. And we better make sense of it soon, because I don't know what to do and I hate being lied to," I snapped. I felt as if I was being unnecessarily hateful, and that wasn't my aim, but I was losing it. Adrian suddenly felt much to close to me, since he'd been right next to me in order to see my laptop. I used one arm to force him away and fixed him with a dreadful glare, my eyes filled with tears of confusion, stress, and God knows what else. "Just go back downstairs." I turned away, ignoring the shocked expression on his face, something that was very uncharacteristic of him. I noticed the hurt look that just showed in his reflective eyes, and I relished in it.

Then I realized something.

 _L is used to being believed just because of the title he carries. What if that's why Adrian looked so upset?_ So much of Adrian's personality did correlate with L's. Was it all some kind of act, or was that really his personality? The more I thought about it, the more I felt like Adrian would lie about a lot of things, but not about everything. Surely his personality wasn't a lie. Surely the very foundation of our relationship - a friendship or whatever - wasn't a lie.

I turned around, and Adrian was still there. His utterly wounded expression was wiped away, but he still looked far from content. "I don't know how to make you believe me, but I will," he said, and I detected a certain woundedness behind the certainty in his voice. It was saddening that I had managed to inspire that kind of emotion in someone who had remained largely frigid, but to be honest, I was so stressed at the time that I didn't even think about it.

"Good luck with that," I snapped disagreeably, shooing him from the room and closing the attic door. I let my body collapse into the safety of my mattress as I forced myself into a state of deep thought. How would this entire episode affect the rest of my life?

However unlikely it seemed, I forced myself to consider that Adrian was telling the truth. If Adrian really was a teenaged L, he'd sure as hell want to get back to his own world. I'd spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to do that. If I was successful, the way I looked at things would be changed forever. If I was unsuccessful, Adrian would be living with me until my foster parents got back, at which point the law would take over. I may or may not see Adrian again either way.

I didn't want that, when I thought about it. Whether or not I had my doubts about Adrian, he was a friend of sorts. The only friend I'd had since my mom got arrested for shooting up.

I didn't want to lose a friend. I was stubborn and I wanted to hold a grudge against Adrian for seemingly lying to me, so it took a lot to admit that.

Finally, I pulled my mind back to the topic on hand. If Adrian was just a cosplayer who was way too into it, Lacey would help me track down his family and he'd be gone.

Another situation that was not in my favor.

Basically, I had made a friend that I could never, never keep.

Still, if I really was Adrian's friend, I would help him figure things out. Even if he did piss me off.

So that's what I would do.

I slid off of my bed and let my body slip onto the floor before carefully picking myself up. I suddenly felt fragile. It probably had something to do with my emotional state.

My feet dragged as I walked over to the attic door and swung it open. It hit the wall with a bang and I prepared to step out of the room.

But... there he was. Adrian. Fist raised, prepared to knock on the door. Grey eyes wide, prepared to pick out my every thought, action, intention. Mouth, slightly ajar, lips parted in the most adorable fashion even before any words sprung from them.

"Do you need something?" I asked, deciding to pretend that I had known he was there, outside my door, the whole time. I held my head high, narrowed my eyes, and sent him the most intense glare I could manage. My lips pressed together in a thin line, and I knew that the tips of my ears were probably reddening like they did when I was angry. If I wasn't a midget, I might have been intimidating.

"Nicolette Mills. Date of birth January 22, 1999. Your father was Jonathan Mills, who served in Iraq but was killed in action. Your mother is addicted to heroin and as a result you have spent the last year moving from foster home to foster home. You are currently housed with Miley and Mikey Jarvis, who have fostered 3 children before you. Your grades are excellent, although they were better before you began moving at such a frequent basis," Adrian said, reciting all of my personal information as if by heart. I cringed at some of it; the reminder of my parents was hard to take. Besides that, it was just mildly creepy.

"Oookay," I began, meeting his eyes and managing to look mildly confused instead of majorly freaked out. "I'll grant you this: you're good at researching."

"I borrowed your laptop," he informed me, looking almost disappointed. Perhaps he had expected me to be more impressed or something. Or maybe he expected me to take that as proof that he, Adrian, was L.

I raised my eyebrows. "When?" Upon glancing back at my bed, I discovered that, sure enough, it was gone.

"You have been asleep for approximately twenty-seven minutes," Adrian said, as if it explained everything. And it did.

"I don't really care that much, I guess, but you should know that it's kind of... taboo to sneak around in a girl's room, especially when she is in it and sleeping." Adrian simply shrugged, as if it was a given. "Can I leave my room now?"

Adrian just nodded and started heading down the stairs, so I followed him. I could still sense his disappointment, but even worse was my growing confusion. I made out like he was simply good at researching, but I knew that it was seriously impressive that he'd managed to find out all of that in less than a half-hour. I wondered where he would have gained that skill, and then the annoying voice popped into my head again with: _you know, L could have done that._

I actually had to remind myself that research and hacking and whatever else he did were not L exclusive skills.

When I got downstairs, I sort of just collapsed on the couch. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice Adrian sitting right next to me, in my space, breathing my air.

"Nik?" he said finally, and I sat up so quickly that my head collided with his. Lucky, both of us had so much hair that it didn't hurt, but it was still a scare.

"Whaaaat?!" I gasped, breathing hard as I recovered and while Adrian separated strands of my brown hair from his black ones with his thumb and forefinger. It wasn't a fluffy moment, either, if that's what you're thinking. It was totally awkward, and all I could do was wonder why that crap only happened to me.

"Do you, perhaps, have any sweets here?" he asked hopefully, finally managing to separate the two of us. I met his eyes and raised one eyebrow.

"You can't just eat sweets. Even if you do have high metabolism, you'll get sick," I pointed out fairly, getting up and wandering over to the fridge. I could hear Adrian following me, and felt his hair tickle my neck as he peered into the fridge over my shoulder.

"I take pills to gain the necessary nutrients," he told me, reaching over my arm and grabbing a vanilla pudding cup. "Do you have any strawberries?"

"We have raspberries, but those are mine," I responded and pulled some leftover green beans from the fridge. "Do you have any of those pills now?" His silence indicated otherwise. "Then you'll just have to eat like a normal person until we find your guardian," I ordered, turning around and snatching the pudding cup from him.

"But -"

"No buts. If you don't have those pills, you can't just eat sweets all the time." I paused, and added, "Besides, during your brief stay here, you've already finished off Mikey's pound cake and all of the snack cakes. Not to mention my Nutella." I said the final part with a glare, and Adrian pouted in response.

"I was unaware that it was yours," he muttered, finding it necessary to defend himself.

"Whatever. How do leftovers sound?"

"Incredible."

I never thought I would hear Adrian sound so sarcastic.

* * *

 _I won't post chapter 4 until I finish chapter 5, so it might be a few days_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

The next day, Adrian and I spent a lot of time just hanging out. He didn't seem to like the lack of productivity, but there wasn't much I could do about it.

"If you're so bored, then get a part-time job," I told him, leaning forward as I watched Jeremy Wade measure a huge freshwater stingray. River Monsters is a fantastic show, by the way. You should all watch it.

Adrian seemed to be deep in thought, and after a while, he shook his head. I wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he was afraid that getting a job would lock him into the real world.

"We could... see a movie?" I offered half-heartedly. Truthfully, I didn't want to see a movie with Adrian. I only watched kid's movies because slasher films all have the plots and most mystery films barely make any sense. Comedies are always really vulgar and I'd feel awkward watching one with Adrian. The list went on... and on... and on.

"What kind of a movie?" he asked, sounding as if he would be pleased just to have something to do.

"Uh, I'm not sure," I answered, trying not to sound very disappointed that he was actually interested in seeing a film with me. I rushed up to the attic and came back down with Chrome opened up. I pulled up the Marquee Cinemas webpage and then plugged in my zip code. "What kind of movies do you like?"

"I don't watch many movies," Adrian said, leaning into me so he could see the computer screen. Admittedly, I had noticed his lack of respect of my personal space multiple time during his stay. I had also noticed that, in spite of this, if Adrian wasn't the one to initiate the contact, he didn't like it. It was a little annoying, and frankly, it was difficult for me to avoid commenting on it.

 _Doesn't L seem like that kind of person?_

That stupid voice again.

"Nik?" Adrian asked, snapping me back to an attentive state.

"Sorry," I muttered, focusing back on the page. "We could watch Insidious, or Pitch Perfect 2. And... there's Poltergeist, or a kid's movie if you'd prefer animated stuff."

"Mm," Adrian muttered, scanning over his options. "Poltergeist is a horror film?"

He wasn't looking at me, so I allowed my brow to scrunch and my eyes to narrow. Adrian didn't seem like a horror fan, so what was his motivation for selecting that particular movie? "Yes," I confirmed.

"Could we see that one?" he asked, and I nodded my agreement.

"The next showing is at one, so we can go to that one if we leave now," I said, closing my laptop and setting it on the couch. I still wore my pajama pants, so I ran upstairs to change. When I got back downstairs, Adrian was already in the Jeep.

"Do you know how to drive?" I asked interestedly, and he shook his head.

"I've never had the need," he informed me, forcing himself to sit normally so he could buckle his seatbelt.

"Huh," I muttered and pulled out of the driveway. "Why not?"

Adrian gets that looks in his eyes that tells me it's another thing I won't believe. "I was always chauffeured from place to place."

"Okay," I answered, unwilling to pick a fight about it. My doubts about Adrian's identity had continued to build up. If I was less of a skeptic, I would have jumped on the 'Adrian is L' bandwagon by then.

 _Adrian was chauffeured around because he is L. It would explain why he didn't have a driver's license - or any form of identification for that matter._

"Shut up," I whispered.

"Excuse me?" asked Adrian.

"Nothing," I responded.

* * *

When we got to the theaters, Adrian and I rushed to get our tickets. We were one of the first people in the theater, which meant that we had best pick of all the seats. Adrian wanted to sit in the top row of chairs, and I agreed. We'd have the best view of the screen that way.

The two of us wandered that way and sat in the very middle of the row. I forced myself not to open the bag of popcorn, which was warm and slightly greasy in my grasp. Commercials were playing, so the two of us continued to talk.

"So have you ever been to a movie theater before?" I asked Adrian curiously, cocking my head a little.

"Yes, just not often," he replied thoughtfully. "Actually, I believe this is only the third time I've been in a movie theater, and the second time I didn't even watch a movie."

My eyes widened. "Then... what were you doing?"

"I spent the entire time observing another group of people who were also in the theater at the time," he explained.

"Really? Were they interesting?"

Another pause. "Very," Adrian answered generally.

Our conversation seemed to be over, and the two of us say their in an awkward silence. I pretended to be very interested in a commercial about a local used book store, but I could feel Adrian's stare.

Finally, Adrian made a move to cut down the silence. "Nik, I would like to ask if you..."

 _"Mr. Grey will see you now."_

Adrian did not finish his question. Instead, he stared, fascinated, at the screen until the commercial advertising the DVD release of Fifty Shades of Grey was over. I felt myself blushing a deep red and felt intensely embarrassed at watching such a promiscuous ad with a guy right next to me.

"That was interesting," Adrian coughed.

"Don't tell me it turned you on," I said flatly, glad for the dim light that hid my fading blush. I was teasing, of course, but I should have expected that the ever-serious Adrian wouldn't get that.

"No!" Adrian answered, sounding far more adamant that usual.

We spent the short remainder of the advertising period in silence.

When the movie started, I quickly came to the conclusion that it would not be as terrifying as it was supposed to. I actually felt that it was rather cheesy, and stopped paying attention to it. Instead, I focused on letting the dark take me away, on letting the shadows wash over me in their silent peace. Even with the screaming and whatnot during the movie, it suddenly seemed very quiet. I let my eyes drift shut, although I didn't fall asleep.

The movie was about halfway over when I felt it. My hair was pretty bushy, but when it was touched, I could feel it just as well as if it clung to my skin. I felt something working its way through my hair near the back left side of my skull. Adrian was sitting to my left, and I came to the stunning revelation that he was working his fingers through the curly tangles of my brown locks.

Why? Because he was interested in the texture? Because it smelled pleasantly of my strawberry shampoo (which Adrian was still using, I might add)? Because he thought I might be scared of the events taking place in the movie and human touch might provide me with comfort?

I don't know.

What I did know was that no one had touched me that way since my last boyfriend almost a year ago. It was gentle, and not inappropriate, and I sort of liked it. So I let it continue for the next ten minutes, when Adrian removed his hand.

For the rest of the movie, I pondered all of my questions about Adrian. It seemed to be a new hobby of mine, but I wasn't getting anywhere.

When the credits came on, I realized that I'd finished my small bag of popcorn without really noticing it. I crumbled up the bag and threw it in the garbage as Ieft, and used the chance to glance at Adrian. He showed no indication of being embarrassed, and I wondered if he thought it was normal to finger your friends' hair like that.

Weird.

To this day, I'm fairly certain that he just wanted to know what my hair felt like. Doesn't make it any less strange, though.

We walked out of the theater together. Adrian was definitely drawing some looks, but I knew exactly why. People around us either knew nothing about Death Note and thought he was weird, or they knew everything about it and thought he was a cosplayer.

"D'you wanna get ice cream?" I asked, glancing a few shops to the left. There was a little diner in that area, and they had Hershey's ice cream, not to mention awesome burgers. I really wanted to pig out on a gigantic bowl of chocolate ice cream, especially since I knew that Adrian, who thought he was L, wouldn't judge.

Yeah, I liked ice cream.

Adrian readily agreed and we began to walk towards the shop when it happened.

"Heeey, man! Nice cosplay!" someone shouted.

We didn't even see who it was, but Adrian stopped in his tracks. He looked like he'd been slapped across the face. His dark eyes were wider than I'd seen them yet, and if he was more emotional, he likely would have been crying. His hand fell from his mouth to his pockets, where he jammed both of his hands and began walking again, though rather stiffly.

"Adrian?" I said, resuming my own walk only a second after Adrian. "Are you alright?"

I wasn't expecting to be answered, and I wasn't. Honestly, something about Adrian's eyes confirmed something I'd suspected for some time. He wasn't lying to me about some secret past life or anything. I wasn't quite ready to believe that he was L, but I no longer thought there was even the smallest possibility that he was lying about his confusion.

No one is that good of an actor.

I pushed open the door to let him into the diner, where we both got huge bowls of ice cream and polished them off in silence. I couldn't stop staring at Adrian. I had never seen anyone look so miserable. I almost felt bad. It was clear enough that he desperately wanted someone to believe that he was L, but I just couldn't do it. My mind rejected things like that. Things that couldn't happen.

"Adrian, do you want to head home?" I asked. "I don't think we should hang out here any longer."

Adrian nodded, still looking horribly numb, and the two of us slipped off of our barstools and left.

* * *

When we had reached the house, and it was dark out, and Adrian still had not said a word, I became seriously concerned. It was sort of scary, watching him fix his eyes on a spot on the wall and stare holes in it for hours. It was sad, I thought, that he was so convinced that he was L that he couldn't take a comment about cosplaying.

Of course, I really didn't know what to say. I still had no clue who he really was, and the results of all the tests the doctor had done wouldn't be back for at least another day. And after they did come back, what were we supposed to do? What if he'd been drugged or something?

Besides that, I continually thought about the days before, when he had assured me that he hadn't been raped. There was a chance that he was lying about that, if he knew of it. After all, who wouldn't be ashamed of such a thing happening? Besides that, even if he wasn't lying, extremely traumatic memories can be repressed. It's a natural function of the human mind. Or he could have been knocked out the whole time.

In other words, in spite of what he claimed, my friend may have been the victim of what I had always thought of as the most terrible violent crime. I had no way of knowing if it had truly happened at the time, and if it had, I didn't know what to do about it. Especially not so long after.

If I had believed that truth of Adrian's, especially, peace of mind would have come a lot easier.

But it was hard to believe him. I didn't know anything about him. That's what I thought, anyways.

I was watching River Monsters again. It was an episode involving piranhas in which a bus crashed in the Amazon River and the passengers were eaten. Truthfully, River Monsters was only a cover for what I was really doing. I was watching Adrian. Watching him sit, watching him stare. Watching his hands clench and unclench on the denim of his jeans. Watching how his lips twitched slightly as he thought.

I was becoming obsessed.

My staring was interrupted only when the house phone rang. It was the most annoying sound ever: this obnoxious _deedeedeedeedee_ over and over and over. I always ran to the stupid thing just to get the ringing to stop, but this time, I dragged my feet.

When I picked up, a clear beep rung throughout the room, and a I felt Adrian's cold gaze hitting me as I walked back to my spot on the couch. "Hello?" I asked dryly, wondering who it could be since Lacey wasn't supposed to contact me until tomorrow at best.

The voice that replied was the familiar and cheerful one of my foster father. "Yo, Nik!" he said, practically shouting, and I held the phone away from my ear.

"Uh, yeah," I muttered, rolling my eyes. I could only guess what he was doing at that moment in time.

"How are ya, kid?" he continued, and I noted the noise of a crowd in the background.

"Awesome," I replied dryly.

"Good, good," he replied. "Hey, uh, Miles and I'll be back in, like, some weeks. Work stuff, y'know?"

 _In, like, some weeks._ I snorted and tossed my head irritably, holding the phone away so he couldn't hear my frustration. Miley and her husband are probably the least attentive foster parents I've had, though not the worst. At least here I had a car I could use, not to mention an awesome bedroom. Besides that, I seriously doubted that I could have gotten away with… well, with Adrian with any of my other foster parents. Still… "Okay," I said finally, holding the phone closer to my face. "Well, I'll see you then."

Mikey hung up, and so did I, leaving the mood to fall back into the mockery of peace it had been before the call. I settled back into the couch and began to really watch my show. I didn't feel like depressing myself with Adrian anymore. I didn't want to worry about who he was or what he'd been through. I didn't want to notice his quirks. I didn't want to think about anything involving him.

"Nik," Adrian said suddenly, startling me.

"What?"

"Who was that?"

"... No one important, Adrian," I replied quietly. There it was again: that stabbing pain of doubt.

It had crossed my mind that the wistful tone of my voice when I spoke; as I remembered my parents, was the same tone Adrian had adopted when talking about Watari only days before.

No one is that good an actor.

* * *

 _Thanks for all of your support! Once again, the next chapter will not go up until chapter 6 is completely written. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy (:_


	5. Chapter 5 - The Author Has a Thought :D

**Chapter 5**

* * *

I had put my foot down. Work would not be put on hold for Adrian's sake.

My job was a pretty simple one. Because I refused to work fast food, Subway included, my options were pretty limited. Instead, I worked at a local privately-owned store called Barb's House. It sold everything from purses to Webkinz, and my job was to make sure that the shelves and racks, as well as everything on them, stayed clean. Once a week, I'd drop by and dust the shelves, as well as running a disinfectant wipe over just about everything I could. Boring work, of course, but it paid more than enough since I worked the cash register during the week, too.

Adrian was all for staying at the house. He wanted to mope some more, I suppose. Or perhaps he had already decided that the privacy of the living room of my house was a better place to think than any. Whatever the reason, when I mentioned that I would have to work, he protested.

"You know you could just stay here," I muttered, pulling my mass of hair into a sloppy ponytail. I had no problem with leaving him here. I doubted he'd steal anything, and I doubted that anything too horrible could happen when I was gone. In the few hours that I would be absent, it was hard to believe that he would do any more than sit on the couch for several more hours, besides maybe scrounge my pantry for snack cakes.

"I could, but are you certain that's advisable?" he replied, plucking a butterscotch candy from a bowl he'd found hidden in the cupboards. I sighed. We'd have nothing sweet in the house by the time Mikey and Miley got back. They'd be pretty upset, especially since they knew that my sweet tooth wasn't that great. I had the occasional muffin, a Swiss Roll, maybe a candy bar. But no way would I clean out the house.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I answered just as smoothly, smacking the candy out of his hand and placing it back in the dish.

Adrian pouted, a look that I'd have never imagined on his face. He was always too sober for that, and too separate from any form of emotion. Pouting was so childish, too childish for him. Still, when he actually didn't, it failed to look out of place. Actually, it was sort of cute… in the same way that a mischievous puppy is cute. It'll always come back to bite you in the ass later.

His eyes flickered away from his fingers and locked onto my face for a split second before flickering away. … _And here it comes._ "I didn't think that you would be able to trust me," he said, "as you believe I suffer from some form of delusion." _Yeah. There it was._ He plucked that same butterscotch from the dish again, but I didn't bat it away this time.

"I don't," I began to protest, then thought better of it…

… too late, of course. L's eyes lit up with a kind of victorious interest and flickered back to me and away again. Back and forth. Back and forth. "You don't trust me… or you don't believe I am deluded? I think, Nik, that it is the latter. If you truly thought that I was deluded, would I be here right now? You would have perceived that I was a danger. You would not have allowed me into your home, and you wouldn't have assisted me. In fact, you would have called the police when you first realized how insistent I was of my claims." He paused, smiling into the butterscotch candy as he pressed it into his lips. "You believe me, Nik."

"I don't," I said, firmly this time, even though I'd been considering all of that myself. What he said made a lot of sense, but I couldn't accept it. Some things simply _can't_ be. And by principal, people _cannot_ be fictional characters. I would have to be insane to consider it.

That small voice in the far back of my head began to nag at me once again. _Then I suppose you're insane. You've done a lot of considering, haven't you?_

 _No I haven't, I'm not, I'm not, haven't…_

"I don't," I repeated coolly, turning my back on L before I had too much time to look at his unconvinced facial expression. I reached back and grabbed a candy, stuffing it in my mouth and spitting the wrapper into my hand as I walked to the door. I heard the creak of couch cushions shifting beneath him and then the sound of newly sneakered footsteps on the floor. "You're staying here," I added, stepping outside and slamming the door behind me.

I never had claimed to be mild tempered.

I slammed the car door, too, before I drove off, making a point of speeding as I went.

* * *

Barb's House was a cute place even from the outside. Business was doing pretty good, and I think she had someone come and work the yard sometimes. The gardens were always beautiful, catching eyes and drawing them to the sign that the shrubbery and flowers surrounded. My favorite flowers were the morning glories, bright blue and fuchsia. The irises were lovely too.

The house itself appeared rather small from the outside. It seemed smaller than the yard, though quite clean. The vinyl siding was white, or maybe a very pale grey, and the shutters were dark blue. White curtains were visible just inside on either side of the windows, though they were left open so potential customers could see what the store had to offer. As it was a house, there was a driveway. It led behind the house to a parking lot that had been established after the building.

I parked there and stepped out of the car, exhaling slowly, as if to release all of my anger before I went inside. I wasn't really upset enough to take it out on anyone but Adrian himself, but I was angry enough to appear visibly upset. That was definitely a bad thing; an angry face frightens the customers. It was so frustrating to me that he would try to make his… his _fantasy_ sound logical. That he would try to make me believe it.

Still, Barb's was calming, and as I walked from the parking lot to the back door, I paused to watch the koi swim around in her small pond. They were peaceful and calm, their small bodies turning and twitching slightly as they swam. If only my life had been that peaceful, everything would have been better. I would have been happier. It would all be different.

If my life had been peaceful, my father would be alive and my mother wouldn't have become addicted to heroin. I would still be living at home, and not in the foster system. All the world's violence had caused me so much pain, and there Adrian was, causing me to feel even more rage and pain and sadness.

I squeezed my hands into fists and walked past the pond, opening the screen door and walking into the store. Maybe it would be best if I told Adrian to go. Just a little more time and we'd have those test results back. After that, it was probable that Adrian would be able to leave. I had a feeling that the only reason he'd stuck around was because he was so clueless, anyways. As soon as he decided there was nothing to worry about, he would leave, I was sure. In fact, I doubted he would stay even if there was nothing wrong. I wouldn't have to bother with any of this then.

The bell over the door jingled as it opened and shut, and I saw Barb peering around the edge of the doorway. "Oh, Nikki, it's you!" the older woman said happily, fixing her hazel eyes one me and rising from the stool behind the checkout counter. Barb was probably in her early sixties; I'd never asked. She was plump, and her hair was dyed a dirty blond and cut into a bob. She was a really nice lady, sort of like what I imagined a grandparent would be like. When she first hired me, it had been purely out of kindness. She didn't know me from Adam, after all. I suppose she could see that I needed something productive to do from a mile away, and she'd given it to me.

She was the only person who could get away with calling me Nikki, a name that I absolutely despised. My mother hadn't even called me that.

My father had. But that was a long time ago.

"Hey!" I replied, putting a lot of false cheer into my voice as I turned left and entered the room. "Sorry I'm late."

"It isn't a problem, hon. How have things been?" Barb asked as I grabbed the duster and Clorox wipes from the counter.

"Pretty good," I lied as I wandered into the candle room. "Busy."

"I heard you were wandering around with a young man the other day."

"Yeah," I agree without thinking. _There's no reason to keep it a secret from Barb, is there?_

"He isn't local, is he?"

"God, no," I answered with a chuckle. I had once complained to Barb that there wasn't a single attractive young man in my entire school. I suppose she took it to heart. I began removing candles from the shelves and wiping everything down, stirring up the thin layer of dust that had settled in the past week and causing me to sneeze.

"Where _is_ he from?"

 _That hotel. Where was it, again?_ "Wisconsin," I replied.

"Long distance, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You've gotta be careful with long distance, hon. Did he come all this way to see you?"

It occurred to me, very suddenly, and a little too late, that she thought Adrian was some kind of boyfriend. I felt my heart stop beating as I gagged on my own spit. "N-no. We just met. He's taking a road trip. Enjoying some of the freedom his parents have allowed him lately." Of course, I made this all up on the spot. I'd definitely have to make a mental note or I'd tell a different story later.

Barb didn't push it any further, just nodded and left the room. Usually our idle chatting was enough to put me on cloud nine. While it didn't really have that effect this time, the cheery sound of her voice still managed to cheer me up and my mind was no longer clouded with negative emotions. Still, I now felt mildly embarrassed and wished that I had told her that Adrian was a cousin or something. She was surely under the impression that something very different was going on.

I placed the candles back on the shelves one by one, careful not to damage the glass containers that held them. Barb wouldn't make me pay for it, but that only made it worse. The idea of charity made me sick to my stomach, especially since it was something I had to accept so often.

It was almost funny to me that this time, I was the one being charitable. I didn't have to allow Adrian a place at my home - not that it was really _my_ home. I didn't have to feed him. I hadn't needed to take him to get those tests done, and I certainly didn't have to let him stay until I got the results. He had done _nothing_ for me and I was doing a lot of things that benefited him. I was the charitable one now, and thought made me want to laugh out loud.

Perhaps one day my kindness would pay off. I deserved it for putting up with Adrian - he was puzzling, not to mention absolutely _infuriating_.

And I laughed again. What could someone like Adrian ever do to show me kindness? He was convinced that he was a fictional character, for Pete's sake!

Of course, every time I'd thought about it recently, the more often I had considered that maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth. It upset me because things like that simply don't happen. _Surely here in the real world, there is a clear division between reality and fantasy. And for Adrian to be a fictional character… it would cross that division._ I had always been a down-to-earth person. Even as a child, I'd respected what was real and what wasn't. I'd never been much of an artist or writer because of it. I simply didn't have the imagination.

Sure, I enjoyed fiction. I liked to watch TV shows. And sometimes I _wished_ I had more of an imagination because maybe then I'd be able to separate myself from the chaos of the world around me. It isn't exactly good for a person, but surely everyone wants a break from reality sometimes, and especially so when they are unhappy. Like I was.

In short, for a person like me to be questioning the very basis of the world I lived in was serious. I hated it - the doubt, the fear.

It was only then that I realized I was gingerly placing a Webkinz on the shelf. I had been here long enough that I had reached the room I always dusted last. It was full of fabrics: scarves, purses, and, of course, Webkinz. I was so deep in thought that the time had flown by. It was almost a shame that my peace had ended so quickly, but there was no use complaining. I could probably run a few 'errands' to put more time in between now and whenever I'd have to see Adrian again.

I walked back to the cabinet where the cleaning stuff belonged and pulled open the door. Once everything was safely in place, I returned to the counter, where Barb was waiting with my pay - all cash, and bigger than usual because of the massive amount of cashiering I'd done earlier in the month.

Yes, maybe I'd go and see _Jurassic World_.

"Thanks, Barb," I murmured, shoving it haphazardly into the front pocket of my jeans and grabbing my purse from the counter.

"No problem, hon! Have a great evening!"

"Of course," I agreed as I left. I slung my purse over my shoulder and closed the door quietly behind me, hurrying out to the Jeep in the hopes of catching the next showing of _Jurassic World._ Sure, I'd seen it before, but it was a good enough movie that I didn't mind. In fact, I was rather looking forward to it. It had been a while since a movie had gotten my adrenaline pumping like that particular one did.

I stood outside the car and slipped my purse from my shoulder. As I unzipped it, I dug around in my pocket for the money I'd earned. _Might as well go ahead and put it in my wallet,_ I thought as I pried my purse open and began to reach inside.

I was distracted, though, by the most curious thing. It appeared to be some kind of a sculpture or a doll. It was made of small, thin twigs tied into bunched with string, and it sat at the very top of my bag.

I swallowed uneasily and gingerly plucked the doll from the purse. I knew for a fact that Barb sold nothing even remotely similar to this. So how had it made its way into my purse? Was this a customer's idea of a funny prank?

I slid the doll onto the passenger seat and slid into the Jeep. On the way to Barb's, I'd had a problem with speeding. And now, on the way back, I just couldn't keep my eyes on the road.

For some reason, that doll was freaking me out… a lot.

Maybe I'd skip that movie.

* * *

 _So, guys. A note from he author: I have some ideas to share with you, and some announcements._

 _I'll start of with the idea. I was thinking about this story the other day when I finally got off my butt and started working on my Death Note fics again, and I had a thought. Basically, the thought was something along the lines of, 'Hey! What if someone else out there is writing a similar story, but with Light and an OC instead of L?' Eventually this though evolved into and idea. If someone ever wanted to write a story like this one, separately from mine, eventually the two of us could collaborate and cross over both of our stories into one. But it's just an idea, so I'll only seriously consider reaching out to other offers depending on your responses. Drop me a line via PM or review. If you have a way to make the idea better, awesome! If you like it the way it is, awesome! If you hate it, awesome! I just want to hear from you guys._

 _My announcement is that, even though I'll be putting my other Death Note fics into a hiatus, this one will remain active. It's different and this particular 'volume', so to speak, - yes, I'm planning on more 'volumes' - will have nothing to do with any canon story line. Basically, I get to be more creative, so it isn't as hard for me to write.  
In other words, if you guys feel like I'm being lazily and am taking too long to update, tell me so. This is an ACTIVE story, and it is my responsibilty to update it for you guys._

 _Love from the author ~  
Thanks for reading my story and rambling. Let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"Owen's frigging hot," said random movie girl as we rose from our seats.

Okay. So I'd gone to see the movie.

"Hell, yeah, he is," I agreed, shoving my hot dog wrapper into the garbage can while I walked by. Honestly, I didn't know her name, and I didn't really care. I wasn't big on talking to strangers anyways.

A black-haired boy rolled his eyes and shoved past us, and random movie girl flipped him off. "Jerk," she said angrily, and stomped out of the theater. I followed and headed to the parking lot, where my Jeep was parked right up next to the building. Lucky me.

The movie had put my mind at ease. As violent and intense as "Jurassic World" was, I totally loved the feeling of adrenaline and how I couldn't really think about anything else after seeing it. Basically, I didn't feel tense anymore, but I also didn't feel tired the way I did after watching a chick flick.

I pulled open the door to the Jeep and switched on the radio. Of course, I didn't pay much attention to what was playing - I think it was Green Day or something like that - but the background noise was nice and seemed to harmonize with the road and engine noises. It didn't, really, but I was in a good enough mood to think that it did and ignore it when it didn't.

It took me only a half-hour, give or take, to get home, and when I did, the heavy front door was wide open, though the glass door was shut. Adrian had probably been waiting for me. He certainly hadn't expected me to be gone for two extra hours to see a movie.

 _But maybe,_ I thought, _he should be less irritating. Then he wouldn't_ have _to wait for me._

I yanked my purse out of the car seat, feeling certainly less irritated than I had when I'd left home, though some of that irritation had come back. I really needed and attitude check and I knew that, but somehow, I didn't feel like Adrian really had the right to judge me for being irritated at him, even if it was for an entire day. I had done a lot for him and all I'd received in turn was a constant badgering to believe in the unreal. I was pretty sure it was okay to be frustrated.

And damn, was I frustrated.

Still, the part of me that liked Adrian as a person and wanted to be his friend wanted me to let it go. I know I'm not an incredible person, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be straight-up bad. Maybe then I'd have the ability to hold a grudge. But, as it was, I was having a difficult time holding this one for more than a few hours.

I decided not to struggle with it. Just to let it go. It would be one thing if I held grudges sort of naturally, but putting effort into it would probably make me an angry person. _So when I get inside, I just… won't talk about it,_ I thought as I pulled the glass door open…

… to find that Adrian wasn't in the living room.

It seemed that it wouldn't be a problem, after all.

* * *

I dropped my purse on the couch and shut the doors behind me, then began to run up the stairs. It was only about nine, but I was already tired and a shower would be nice. Anyways, it had been a long few days that definitely warranted a long, hot shower and a decent night's sleep. What with all of the activity and the oddity of the past few days, I guessed that even Adrian would want some sleep.

I pulled the door to the attic and walked in, only to find that Adrian was crouched comfortably on my bed, reading a book.

More specifically, the seventh volume of Death Note. The one where he - _where L_ \- dies. "Adrian!" I exclaimed, feeling very distressed for a reason I couldn't name. But I wanted to think that my reason was that if he read those, books, he might become even more obsessed. Still, that didn't make sense even as I thought of it. If he was the superfan I thought he was, he'd read them before. He didn't need them anymore.

He glanced up from the book, his face almost expressionless. I don't know what I was expecting; fear, maybe? After all, he had just read the future of his supposed self, not to mention his death. "These books are rather…" He paused, his nose wrinkling. "... distasteful."

Of course he would think so. It was both funny and sad to realize that he was simply putting on a brave face. Otherwise, he would have been entirely cold to the situation, or else he would have overreacted. "Yes, but they're good. That's why people like you cosplay as their favorite characters," I answered lightheartedly, as if there was no problem at all.

Adrian ignored my jab and put the book down. "I see no reason to continue reading if it isn't real, as you have continually insisted."

He stood up and brushed past me while he hurried to leave. "Stay out of my room!" I called down after him, only to have the door shut in my face. "Whatever," I muttered coolly, turning my back to the door. It seemed as if we were destined not to get along, after all.

* * *

I was awakened not by the sound of Adrian running the shower, or by the odd taste of my own breath, but by the sound of my phone ringing on my bedstand. I moaned in frustration and slapped the wood of the small table in an effort to reach it without opening my eyes, only to realize that it was unfortunately impossible. I opened my left eye just a crack and peered over at the phone, gripping it in a tight fist and sloppily bringing it to the side of my head as I answered the call. "H'lo?" I slurred.

"Hey, Nik," said Lacey Jackson, and I sat up, my back straight against the headboard. "I've got those results back."

I felt my heart take a dive from my chest to my stomach and into my shoes, and I felt like a fish out of water. The idea of those results had me anxious. I didn't want to find out he'd been drugged, and I certainly didn't want to find out that Adrian had some kind of mental problem. How would I be able to convey that to him? It would be impossible to talk about, and the idea had me sick. "Okay," I answered bravely. "Lay it on me."

"Alright," Lacey began cheerfully, and I heard a shuffling of papers. I was on speakerphone, so I'd have to be careful about what I said. "Okay. Let's start with those blood tests. No signs of illegal drugs, but there were signs that he took sleeping pills and vitamins on a semi-regular basis." I frowned. _Sleeping pills? Vitamins, too._ He was an insomniac, and he wasn't into eating proper foods, so that was easily explained. _Pretty devoted for a cosplayer. Is he a cosplayer?_ "Otherwise, his blood tests were fairly average, except that he seems to be on a permanent sugar high." I felt bile rising in my throat. All of this was reminding me a little too much of a certain manga character.

"Okay. What about his clothes?" I asked, remembering that we had brought them to her in a plastic bag.

"Now those were weird. The papers I got from the lab showed that bits of the clothing were doused in something similar to chloroform, but it's not an exact match and I've never some across it before. Whatever it is, he was probably knocked out with it." She paused, and I heard some more shuffling. "Nicolette, you should take this to the police."

"Yeah," I muttered, "I should. I will, I mean." I knew, in my heart, that it was a lie and that the police would never hear a word of this, but I was worried she'd send the test results to the station herself. "Today," I added. "Thanks, Lacey."

"Sure," she answered. "Take care of yourself kid." I was about to hang up, but she began talking again, her voice hesitant. "I did another test. You didn't ask me for it."

"Yeah?" I replied, feeling sick at the weird way her words came out.

"I had a friend of mine run his DNA. See if she could find matches, you know?" Lacey continued, and I began to gnaw at my lower lip. What if he was a criminal or something? What if he'd escaped from a psych ward?

"And?" I asked anxiously, unable to decide whether I wanted her to continue or not.

" _No_ matches. Anywhere. There weren't even any partial matches worth looking at - meaning that his family aren't in any databases either. Nik, it's pretty likely that Adrian doesn't really exist - legally, anyways. The police can help." He didn't exist. _How could he not exist? How can he not be on some missing persons database or something? He can't just… just_ not _exist!_

I wanted to scream from frustration, but I settled with biting my lip till it bled. "Thanks, Lacey," I muttered, and hung up without another word.

 _Nonexistent._

 _Sugar high._

 _Sleeping pills._

 _Adrian himself._

 _How am I to take all that?_

By that point, I was already starting to believe him, but now, I felt like I was being pushed off the edge of the world - my world - or what I thought of it, anyways. It was like some outside force was trying to make be believe something wrong, simply because it couldn't be _right_. I believe in things that I could see and understand. I believed in things that were possible. And now, it seemed as if the lines between possible and impossible were blurred.

A little bit of faith can move mountains, but it takes a mountain of reason to move someone without faith.

And I had _no_ faith in this stupid theory that Death Note was real and so was L. It would take more than a mountain to get me to really, solidly believe that he wasn't lying to me through his teeth. It would take a mountain to force me to have faith that this wasn't all some mistake. So in my heart, I wished for reality… or even a mountain. And in my mind, I wished I'd be careful what I wished for.

* * *

"I have already tried to explain to you why it is that I don't seem to exist," L - _Adrian_ \- said patiently.

"Yes, I heard you," I said madly, hugging the white softness of my pillow to my knees and my knees to my chest. I breathed heavily, as if in a rage, and buried my nose into the pillow. It smelled like hairspray, but that wasn't even at the back of my mind. I was far too concerned with other things for obvious reasons. "You're a fictional character and your acting father took care to wipe all traces of you from the face of the Earth. Yeah, that would make sense if it was actually possible."

"I don't understand why you won't believe me," he monotoned, and I wanted to hit him. Maybe he was a fictional character. A _real_ person - their voice would have broken. They'd be upset. But Adrian just sat there, indifferent, like he was over it all, and I wanted to strangle him for ever catching my attention in the first place. Then I'd strangle myself for ever approaching him. I laughed madly into the pillow and glared up at him. I imagine I looked bad - eyes bloodshot, face flushed, hair a mess.

"What else is real?" I question, daring him to contradict me. "Is 'Paranormal' real? Maybe Naruto's real. If we sit still long enough, maybe we'll be attacked by ninjas or a nine-tailed fox."

"Maybe," he offered coldly.

"What's the matter with you?" I screamed, throwing the pillow at him and only feeling dissatisfied when it hit his head and bounced neatly to the floor.

"What's the matter with you?" he echoed calmly. "I've done nothing wrong. All of the evidence your friend - _the scientist_ \- showed you seems to support my version of the truth. Perhaps I'm tired of people who won't look at what's right in front of them."

"So now," I gasped, digging ragged nails into the skin of my calves and leaving painful red marks there, "now you're going to tell me that you - that if this had happened in reverse, you'd believe this?" I could hardly believe what he was implying. The mixture of rage and confusion seemed to be drowning me. I only wanted it to stop, no matter how.

"Yes," he replied simply, causing my face to flush even further as I sank my nails into my skin again. "I believe I would. It is best to keep and open mind relating to these things."

I took a deep breath in as I threw my head back. "Well, you're just _perfect,_ aren't you?" I yowled, jumping up and slamming my heels into the hardwood, causing a crashing noise that the neighbors would probably hear. But I could only take so much. The testing of my sanity on top of Adrian's 'I'm perfect' routine was more than I could take. "Maybe you should find someone perfect like you to spend time with, you fucking asshat!"

Apparently my excessive - for me, anyways - swearing was enough for Adrian to know I'd had enough. Or maybe it was the fact that I was clearly close to kicking him out. But his eyes, small steel-colored rings around bloated pupils, widened and he pressed his lips together. Then his mouth opened slightly, and his muscles tensed nervously. I had confused him. Silly as it was, I felt a small and thrilling sense of victory. "Nik, I'm sorry, I -"

And that's where time seemed to stop. _Do I let him continue? Do I let him stay here even longer so that I can spend even more time trying to figure out who he is while he distracts me with his constant talk of fiction?_ It would, of course, be rude to cut him off, but I was beginning to wonder if his presence here was good for me at all. Then again, with my intensifying doubts, I didn't want to make him go, either.

I began to wish really, really hard for a mountain, something that would absolutely prove whether he was lying to me or not.

It was unfortunate, really, that right then, God or whoever was actually there was listening to my mind babble. So my wish got granted in something like a split second, right then, in the middle of Adrian's sentence. You could almost say that Adrian was saved by the gods. God. Whatever. Because right then, there was the sound of a car door slamming, and I instantly went into panic mode. "Omigod it's my foster parents they're gonna kill me," I said without pause, grabbing Adrian by the back of the neck and dragging him into the guest room.

"Nik, perhaps we can -"

"Shaddup 'n stay here," I slurred, slamming the door in his face after pushing him in further. I rushed to the front door. When I pulled it open, I noted a shocking sight - my foster parents' car wasn't there. _They aren't here. Then who...?_

I know what you're thinking. _Maybe it was a neighbor, dipshit._ Something like that, right? Wrong. My neighborhood hardly counted as a neighborhood. Most of the houses were at least 25 yards apart from each other and for my neighbors and I, it was probably closer to fifty. I wouldn't have heard them closing a car door, or even slamming it. So it was definitely my car door.

I swallowed my fear and walked outside, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. Someone had been looting my car or something! What if they were dangerous? I had to pull myself together before wandering to my car. I didn't even have to open the door to see what had gone missing.

The last clear image I saw before that sharp blow to the back of my head was the passenger seat. At first it didn't register, but in the instant that I was knocked out, I realized: that creepy doll was gone.

* * *

 _Hey guys! I planned to have this posted yesterday but then I ended up rewriting chapter seven (and you all know that I always have at least one chapter written in advance, as I've mentioned it before). Still, this has been a relatively fast update, and it's possible that the next one will be as well.  
_ _I guess that's a good thing since I said earlier on in this story that I would be slow to update._

 ** _And now for a very important, very exciting announcement! Remember last chapter when I mentioned my idea, in which another author would write a story similar to this one, but with Light and an OC. Eventually, the two of us would collab.  
Well, this idea is now official! _Luna Bass** _**and I have been discussing this via PM and they will be writing this other story. The first chapter is not up yet, but keep your eyes peeled (;**_

 _On a_ much _less important note, I had someone ask me how old Nik was a while back as I've only generalized her age and Adrian's (L's). I did say her birthdate but haven't specified when this fic is taking place. While I have (rather stupidly) never written this down, I think of her as being about 17._


	7. Chapter 7

_Good news, guys! Remember last chapter, I told you that Luna Bass would be writing a parallel story to this one, and we would eventually collab? The first chapter is up! The story is called This is Reality if you'd like to search it. I also put a link to the story on my profile._

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

There was some shouting. Adrian was upset - really, really upset. He sounded flat-out angry at whoever he was talking to. I think it was on my behalf, too. Maybe I would have thought it was sweet, normally, but this time I didn't because the was echoing in my heading, bouncing painfully from wall to wall as it reverberated within my skull. "St-stop it," I moaned, curling myself into a ball as my eyelashes fluttered.

"Lawli," purred the new voice, and I suddenly realized how very close it was to me. My body twitched away from it in surprise and my head jerked up. It drew a gasp from me, as the movement caused a weird mixture of burning, stabbing, and throbbing to shoot from the back of my head to… well, everywhere else in my body. "Look, you've woken Nicolette with all your shouting. What an awful headache she must have." _Concussion?_ I wondered dully as the voice continued. "You should apologize."

"As I recall, I'm not the one responsible for knocking her out, Backup," replied another voice icily. I recognized it as Adrian's and my hand moved an inch to my left. But he wasn't within my reach - or it didn't seem like it. Why was he so far away?

"Aren't you, though? You must have know I'd come after you," 'Backup' corrected. _Who's Backup anyways? Is he another cosplayer? Lawli, he said. Lawliet. Would someone really do this over a cosplay?_ "If you had gone anywhere else, she would be perfectly fine. Still naive. Still happy. This _is_ your fault, L."

"How did you get here, Backup?" L hissed. _No. No. Adrian hissed. Adrian._ I stirred feebly again. _If I could just move…_

I felt a strong hand on my back, stilling me. It was so much stronger than _Adrian's_ \- not his. He couldn't be close enough to touch me, anyways. "Perhaps we should discuss this inside, Lawli. I believe our host is growing uncomfortable."

"I believe that is because you've left her sitting on the ground, you ass,' Adrian hissed, and I might have laughed if I could. A swear word coming out of his mouth sounded wrong, even under those conditions. But all that came from my lips was a low moan, and the strong person scooped me up, like I was a baby, or maybe a cat.

"Why don't you take her, Lawli?" 'Backup' deadpanned, and I felt my body bouncing slightly in his tight grip as he walked. Suddenly, I found myself dumped rather unceremoniously into weaker arms, which nearly gave out and really did when my body startled. Adrian must have realized I was too heavy for him to hold like that, so he slid me to the ground by his leg, and my head rolled involuntarily into his knee. "I'm sure you can serve her better. But you know I am not here about her. I am here about you."

"And why is that, Backup? You always sought to replace me," Adrian said coldly. My mind was slowly giving in. Perhaps there was another explanation, but I couldn't see it. L. What if was real? He'd been in my house. I'd spoken with him. L _?_ But who was Backup?

"No, L," Backup said dryly, as if he'd said the words so many times they were losing their meaning. "I wish to surpass you. I can hardly do that if you aren't there to compete against."

"I suppose that's true," Adrian echoed from above me, "but how did you get here?"

"I presume the same way you did," Backup drawled.

"By no means of your own?" Adrian questioned, and I felt his body shift behind me. My eyelids flickered again, letting in a small amount of morning light as I struggled to pull myself into complete consciousness. "And why? You failed to answer me."

"It's been several days," Backup said. "Wammy's already prepared to replace you, and I was his top choice. I couldn't have that, you understand."

"Yes," Adrian agreed quietly, sounding almost grieved. It suddenly hit me that Wammy - _oh my GOD, this seems real, but it can't be real_ \- should have been some kind of parental figure to L. But 'Backup', whoever he was, claimed it had only been days since 'L' went missing and they were already prepared to replace him. "I suppose you would like me to come back with you now."

"Indeed," chuckled the voice that belonged to that other, mysterious figure, of whose mysteriousness and seriousness had convinced me of the reality of my doubts. "I imagine, though, you've already realized what the issue is here."

"Yes," Adrian agreed again, sounding exhausted. I knew - neither of them was aware how they'd ended up here. Obviously it was supernatural. Science cannot explain the sudden existence of fictional characters. Were they the playthings of some god? I realized with a start that if they were playthings, so was I. It was horrifying. If there were gods in my world, that I'd always thought was so real and definite, and that I'd always believed I'd understood, then everything would have to change. Wouldn't it? Could anything ever be the same again? But I didn't want to believe it - I couldn't - and my mind was blocking out logic in my desperation.

And then, right then, I realized that Adrian had been my friend, but I wanted him gone. And I wanted this 'Backup' person gone. How is it possible for two people to cause such an agonizing change - to cause me to question the basis of my beliefs? And why? Why didn't Adrian tell me to screw off when I offered him help? He could have gone to anyone else. Anyone. And then I wouldn't be sitting on the earth while my head is eaten away by some mysterious injury.

Adrian didn't make me a better person. He didn't make my life better. He changed things, yes, but not in a good way. And even though I thought we were maybe friends, I wanted him to leave because I didn't want things to be any worse. If it even _could_ be any worse.

I suppose I'm not a loyal person by nature. Maybe we were never really friends after all. I don't know.

"We can't get back on our own," Backup pointed out, and I wanted to hit him for stating the obvious. Of course they couldn't leave this place on their own. but I didn't care whose help they needed - I wanted them gone. "In fact, we might not be able to get back at all, Lawli. It would be best for us to work together."

"It would," Adrian agreed. Then he paused, and I wondered if he was going to deny this Backup person anyways. _Why would he, though? It would be the best thing if they could go back to where they belong. It has to be the best thing. Why wouldn't it be the best thing?_ "Backup -"

"B, please. Or Beyond. It hardly matters here, does it?" mused the second character, and I swallowed. I still had no idea who he was. Was he a character? I didn't remember anyone like him in the anime or manga. Maybe I should have watched the films after all.

"B," corrected Adrian. "Even if we were to collaborate, I don't believe we will be able to discover how we were sent here or who is responsible." I shifted a little, finally forcing my eyes to stay open. The edges of my vision were blurred, but I could clearly see that the person in front of me looked a lot like Adrian. He wasn't quite as hunched and his clothing wasn't exactly the same, but there were similarities - natural black, frizzy hair, pale skin (though Adrian's seemed paperwhite in comparison to this boy's), dark eyes and blank face. I wondered if Adrian had a brother. Was this him? Why wasn't he in the series? Because I was certain he wasn't. "I doubt we have the means here, or even in our proper place."

"What's to say that our… kidnapper, per se, won't seek us out themselves?" offered Backup. "It is at least worth a try, L. You hardly have an option." It sounded like a threat and and offer at the same time, which was, in a way, frightening. But I wanted Adrian to leave already. My life hadn't been great before and now, after only a few short days, he had managed to turn me into a confused, uncertain person - with a head injury.

"If they plan to seek us out, we have no reason to _do_ anything," Adrian argued, drawing a disappointed, sarcastic sigh from Backup.

"Wammy tells all of your successors that you are a man of action," Backup told him, shaking his head. "But it seems to me that you aren't a man at all - much less one of action. Perhaps I've surpassed you already."

I expected Adrian to hiss a sharp retort at him, but Backup's declaration was met with quiet. Then, finally, he reached down and grabbed my hand. "Go inside, Nik," he whispered.

Maybe I should be ashamed with it, but as soon as I realized I could sort of balance myself, I did. I didn't even think about it, and I didn't regret it. I didn't wish I could be out there to help him anymore. I just _left._ Then I collapsed into the comfort of my couch and almost instantly fell asleep. Obviously, that was stupid of me, as I might have had a concussion, but as soon as I felt comfortable, my body just took over.

* * *

When I woke up, he was gone.

Just _gone._ He'd cleaned up all his messes, too. The guest room was clean. My car was in perfect condition, and even the food was restocked. My key - which one of them must have stolen from my purse - was neatly back in place. The only evidence he'd ever been here was that my strawberry soap was nearly gone. I almost smiled at the half-empty bottle, which was tucked neatly into the cabinet under the sink, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Maybe it had just been a dream.

I pulled my smartphone from my pocket, and the past few days were confirmed before I even turned it on. There was a crack in my screen that hadn't been there before, and I remembered Adrian practically dropping me to the ground. My phone had been in my back pocket, and the driveway was gravel. But I switched the screen on, and the date only confirmed what I already knew - the last few days had not been imagined. Besides, if they had, what could explain the dull ache in the back of my head?

I was left with nothing to do, and no one to talk to. The silence in the house didn't seem weird, because Adrian hadn't exactly been much of a talker when he was around. _When he was around…_ where was he now? _Wandering around with that psychopath, Backup?_ Maybe I wouldn't regret Adrian's leaving, but I still hoped he'd be okay. That Backup person had knocked me out , and I hadn't provoked him. Unless he had been acting, Backup was really hostile towards Adrian, and I was worried. What if he beat him up or something? Would anyone else help him?

I mentally slapped myself. _Of course_ someone else would help him. Not everyone in the world was terrible. If he needed help, he'd surely come across someone who could see past his odd looks and freakish behavior. Of course, they'd do what I probably should have done right off the bat - get the attention of CPS and get him put in a better place. Except the the System didn't always put you in a better place…

 _But never mind that. He'd only be in the System for a year._

I gingerly rubbed the palm of my hand against my forehead, trying to assure myself that Adrian was not my responsibility. I didn't need to concern myself with him anymore. He would be fine. If the need arose, he was surely intelligent enough to take care of himself. Or, better yet, he'd be intelligent enough to get someone else to help him. I desperately wished that he'd stay away from that Backup character. I was sure he'd get them both into trouble, or even put them in danger.

 _Don't worry about it. He'll be fine._ The words had been ringing through my head nonstop, to the point that they'd already become my mantra. But I knew I'd have to make them go away soon. No matter what I did, Adrian and his associate and their claims would be in my mind forever. I didn't have to let them affect my daily life and focus, though. I _couldn't_ let them. God knows what my foster parents would do if they decided something was wrong with my mental health.

I carefully, slowly placed my phone on the coffee table and took a few lungfuls of oxygen. What would be a healthy way to handle such a situation? I obviously couldn't't try to forget about it all. Blocking something from my memory seemed wrong and unnatural, especially if I did it on purpose. Besides, it's not like I'd be able to consciously block out several days, anyways. The better option would probably be to exhibit that I did have control over something.

Control - something that's always been an illusion, but every human searches for it. If I'd had the control I wanted over my life, I would have never met Adrian. Even though I couldn't change that, I knew there were things I _could_ control. My wardrobe and my appearance, or the way I acted around other people. I could control the books I read, and the movies I watched.

I decided I wouldn't be picky. Any change I chose had to be better than something the world forced me into. _Change can be good,_ I reminded myself and I headed to the bathroom with Miley's sewing shears. _Change can be good. I can control things._ It was odd, listening to the sound of the shears as they neatly sliced of portions of my long hair. It had been so long since I'd cut it, and then it had never been this short. Long locks of curly brown fell to the floor, gingerly tickling my feet as I moved. My head felt oddly light and my skin prickled against the air as my the back of my neck and the tops of my shoulders were exposed. _I can control things._

I gave my head a once-over and fixed any mistakes I could see. I seemed smaller now, and I looked almost impish. It would take some getting used to, seeing myself like that. There wouldn't be anymore ponytails or buns or braids for me - not, of course, that any of those had suited me well before. Instead, my face was surrounded by a halo of thick, fiercely curly hair. I was pleased with it, at least. Pleased because I had done it, and pleased because it looked new. Different.

Of course, I also realized that I didn't want anything else to change.

I swept my hair into a neat pile and put it in the garbage. Since I'd cut it off in chunks, it wasn't exactly fit for Locks of Love. Not that anyone would want a head of hair like mine, anyways. I could feel the incessant itch of loose hair on the back of my neck. It was annoying but could be easily fixed. I'd take a shower in a few minutes and everything would be fine.

Again, I wondered if Adrian was fine. _Maybe I should have given him my number at some point…_ I shook my head. I didn't need to worry about him or his psychopath buddy - who my 'friend' had somehow _lured to my house._ I didn't owe him _anything._

 _Worry about yourself now._

 _Worry about yourself._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

A long, dull afternoon melted into days… and then a week. Then, nine days during which I lived out a simple routine. I slept, ate, and showered… every day. Some days I went to work. At the beginning every day I ran wet hands through my hair and scrunched it so that I didn't appear to have a white kid afro. But that's all. It was dull, and meaningless, and it eventually occurred to me that at least when Adrian was around I'd been doing something productive. _Maybe I should volunteer at an animal shelter or something,_ I thought, but quickly dismissed the idea simply because working with animals doesn't remotely compare to making a real difference in a real person's life. And Adrian, in himself, was definitely a real person.

Of course, I could have gone to work at soup kitchen or something. But the problem with that was my shyness. Even helping Adrian had taken a great amount of courage, and really, it had only happen because of the touch of impulse that pushed me over he edge. Impulse… it would be my undoing.

On the ninth morning, I began it in what had become a very average way. I ran my hands under cool water in the sink and ran them through my curls, makings sure that they'd part and lay properly. Otherwise, it would literally be a disaster. I thought the look suited me well enough, but it would have been better if I was the sort of person who always smiled and seemed really cheerful. Those types of girls always seem to rock short hair. Unfortunately, even if I wasn't in a somber mood, I didn't smile all too often. Not that I really frowned much, either.

Facial expression aside, I was pretty happy with how I looked, so I wiped the remainder of the water off of my jeans, which I'd lazily pulled on shortly after waking up. Usually I would have stayed in pajamas, but I really wanted to do something. I was getting sick of laying around at home, and acting like I'd gone through a bad breakup. To me, it seemed ridiculous. Adrian and I hadn't even been close to that. We were like distant friends - two people with little in common that got along alright, but often had to work to tolerate each other. Sure, he'd been the closest thing I had to a friend since moving there, but I was used to being a loner. I needed to get over it, and I knew it.

So, I prepared to. After nine days of me sitting down and mourning myself, I got off my ass and prepared to go out and do something that wasn't work related. Maybe I'd see another movie. I even thought about going window shopping, which I'd always found oddly enjoyable even though it seemed dull when I really thought about it. Even wandering around in the park seemed favorable. Going out and stretching my legs, enjoying the sunshine… it didn't seem bad. I ached to do something like that, actually.

 _Window shopping it is,_ I told myself, staring hard at my reflection and grabbing my toothbrush. My toothpaste was this disgusting baking soda whitening stuff, but when you drink as much coffee as I do, it's probably necessary. Still, I spat it out as fast as I could and sloppily wiped off my mouth with the back of my hand. I was at least presentable even without makeup, so I ditched my bathroom and headed straight for the car, grabbing my purse as I went.

If I didn't know better, I'd tell you that, between the time I left the house and reached town, no time passed at all. But that would be a lie. Maybe I didn't know it at the time, but fifteen minutes is enough time to do a lot of damage. Well, scratch that - I knew that, but not in my current context. It was more like I didn't see a reason I should be concerned about my house while I was gone. M-squared weren't exactly rich enough to be a target for robbery, after all.

Basically, what was coming on at their home was the last thing I was worried about. I was more worried about my route around town. Which store would I walk by next…? That sort of thing.

Downtown was made up mostly of antique shops. It sounds old and dusty and boring, but if you have a slight appreciation for beauty, it's a little difference. I loved observing the china sets and chairs and porcelain dolls in the windows. Who knows how much time and effort went into them to make them perfect and pleasing to the human eye? I had never been particularly creative myself, but at least I could enjoy looking at the products of people who were. It was a blessing, I thought.

But right then, it was a curse. I should have been at home.

Finally, I reached the Cheesy Name Cafe. It smelled of coffee and muffins even from outside, and I was pretty tempted to go in. Who was I to deny some mocha? Sure, it'd be a little weird going back in there, because for some reason my head was convinced that the whole freaking world revolved around Adrian. But since the world _didn't_ revolve around him and I knew it, I decided to get over it and treat myself to a large breakfast cupcake.

It smelled even better inside, and I decided that this would be the perfect place to kick back and read an eBook while I inhaled my coffee and/or breakfast food. I switched on my phone and tapped the 'books' app and was happy to see that, for once, the stupid thing didn't _crash._ "Um, kid?" the barista said to get my attention. I nearly laughed at her; it was the same girl from the day that I'd met Adrian. "D'you want something? Mocha and a muffin again, right?"

"Uh-huh," I answered, feeling a little off-put. It was kind of weird that she remembered my name, after all. Sure, it was a small town, but I wasn't exactly a local. And I hadn't been there often enough for her to have memorized my order, anyways. I wondered if she might just have a really good memory, but that was stuck down pretty quickly.

"So what's your name, kid?" the woman asked, pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes as she worked on my coffee. This squashed the idea that she could have a good memory since she'd asked me the very same question before.

"It's Nik," I answered, feeling sort of intrigued and sort of freaked out at the same time. Maybe I'd done something really off-putting one of the times I'd come here. But, as I recalled, she hadn't given me such a hassle the last time I'd come here.

"Okay," she said, handing me my coffee and exchanging my money for a muffin. I waited for her to say something else, but she didn't expand and it only lead to awkward silence. eBook forgotten, I sat down in a booth and chewed uneasily on crumbs that I picked from my muffin.

Maybe I was overreacting. I had overreacted to everything lately. I picked up my muffin and took a mouthful of it, childishly stuffing my cheeks like a chipmunk and then wiping chocolate chip from the corners of my mouth. I probably looked like a total moron to anyone passing by, but I wanted to enjoy myself. And 'enjoying myself' was exactly what I wasn't doing, thanks to my permanent paranoia or whatever it was. If acting like a two-year-old imitating Alvin the Chipmunk helped me enjoy myself, then I was all for it.

By the way, if you're one of the folks yelling at me to stop wallowing around in a pool of self pity, _I know._ I wanted to stop. It was the whole reason for leaving the house. But even before Adrian, I had plenty of reason to be a miserable person. I guess his friend attacking me and then both of them leaving just triggered something - set me off. And now, no matter how badly I wanted to or how hard I tried to stop, I could always find something to be unhappy about. It was so stupid, but I couldn't help it. It was like being in a constant argument with my own mind.

I finished of my muffin and dumped the paper thing in the garbage. I'd finish my coffee on my walk. "Hey, Nik," said the barista, and I turned before I walked through the door. Maybe she was going to call me out on whatever weird thing I did now. I certainly wouldn't blame her. I'd be terrible in any kind of customer service - I'd either be too shy to be effective or I'd point out everyone's flaws. I braced myself, pretty sure I was ready for, 'You have chocolate on your face," or "You drool when you eat," or something equally retarded and embarrassing. Instead, she said something completely different that I never in a million years would have expected. Something that would, for me, in less than a day, become a game-changer.

"Yeah?" I mumbled.

"So, your weird cosplayer friend," she began, grinning at me, and I wondered if she was going to ask if we were in a relationship or something. When you're cute and tiny like me and you meet any boy for any reason, adults do that dumb grinning thing and it always means exactly the same thing. I wondered if I should interrupt her or be polite and let her embarrass me, but I didn't have time to make a decision. She continued quickly, as if she couldn't decide whether to think of my 'cosplayer friend' as strange or funny.

"Uh-huh," I nodded dumbly, which was clearly all she wanted - some prompting. She beamed at me and set down her own cup of coffee, which she must have made when I wasn't paying attention.

The barista leaned over the counter and stared at my silhouette in the door. I pursed my lips a little, wishing she would just get it over with. Why couldn't I just be rude and leave? Frankly, anything was preferable to standing there in an irritating silence, waiting for this woman to spit it out already. Finally, she dropped the ridiculous grin and settled for a friendly smile. "He dropped back by today. Ordered the same thing, too! It was so weird!" she laughed.

"Uh," I gasped, wide-eyed. "Y-yeah! Weird!" I yelped, voice cracking madly as I spoke. _What is he doing back? Or what if she mistook that Beyond guy for Adrian? No… their complexions are so different. But…_ Ignoring the concerned look she'd dubbed, I waved and left the cafe in a hurry, my coffee left behind and forgotten in the trash can. I didn't know what to do. If Adrian was still in town, was I to look for him or get the hell out? If he had his Beyond buddy with him, the answer was clear. But if it was only Adrian, the answer was less clear. Still, as I ran with no direction, I decided that I didn't want to bump into either of them. I didn't want to see the fellow who knocked me out and I definitely didn't want a confrontation with Adrian. If I saw him, how was I supposed to be respond? If I'd had to, at that moment,. I would have felt rage. Pure rage. And I didn't want that.

So I turned on my heel and rushed to my car. I'd parked the damn thing nearly a mile away since I'd been walking around town all morning. needless to say, that was stupid of me. The bones of my legs hurt from my feet pounding constantly into the sidewalk, but I couldn't stop. I was too afraid that if I were to stop moving, he would be behind me, and he'd want to talk and 'apologize' and invite me back into his madness again. I was done. I didn't want to help anymore. I was already questioning one of the few facts I'd never felt needed questioning. For that to start again would be unbearable, unacceptable.

It took ten minutes for me, running full speed, to reach my car. I blame it on my shortness - legs like mine don't carry you far. I leaned against the door of the Jeep, gasping for air as I fumbled about my purse for keys. My shaking fingers finally gripped them and I unlocked to door, sliding into the car and clenching my fists around the steering wheel. _You're overreacting,_ I told myself, wishing I could just calm down. My heart was beating erratically, and my lungs couldn't seem to work properly. It was making me feel ill, violently ill, like I might throw up. _You're out of shape,_ I noted in an effort to draw my thoughts from other things.

I started the ignition and left town as soon as I felt that I had a chance of not driving off a bridge. I drove slowly since I didn't want to excite myself too much, and then sped up to the speed limits. Fifteen minutes. That's all it would take to get home. Then I could stop thinking about this and just… just sleep it off.

'Nik, you moron. Do you run from all your problems?' … and the answer is that sometimes, I wish I could. And this time, I couldn't. In fact, I was running _towards_ it.

* * *

By the time I got home, I was largely calm. I didn't feel nauseous anymore, but when I stopped, I still took some time to sit down and mentally scream at myself for darting out of town. _I must have looked insane! Jesus! You just - you can't do that! It wasn't such a big deal! No one else would have freaked out like that!_

And that's the exact moment that I noticed the attic light was on. I stopped yelling at myself and sat up, craning my neck so I could get a better view of the single small, square window in my bedroom. Sure enough, I could see a circle of light through the curtains - a lightbulb. One that I had _not_ left on. I immediately felt uneasy.

Maybe I should have called the cops, because for all I knew, it was a real burglar. But I remembered the barista telling me about my 'cosplayer friend' and felt a sinking in my stomach. _I shouldn't have worried about him in town. He was heading this way._ I struggled to calm myself as I opened the car door and began to walk up to the open front door without ever closing it. My vision seemed blurry, and for a minute, I couldn't really believe what I was seeing. Then my eyes focused, and I could see that everything Adrian _could_ wreck inside was wrecked.

I pushed the glass door open and stepped inside, noting that the closer I got, the worse it was. Drawers and cabinets were ajar, their contents strewn across the floor. The furniture had all been moved. There was broken glass in some places - maybe from vases or glasses that had been sitting on tables. The television - flatscreen, large, expensive - was facedown on the floor, and I swallowed, trying not to imagine what the screen would look like. This was no thief. This was someone who was looking for something.

I could hear noises from the attic - scraping, the sound of things being dropped. My hands shook and one slipped into my purse. It would be easy to call the police. What if I was really in danger?

But I didn't. I simply began to trudge up the stairs, knowing, somehow, that this was something I needed to deal with on my own. I reached the top step and stopped, winced, at the sound of something shattering against the floor. Then I pushed my palm against the door, forcing it open, and the situation proved what I'd already known.

"Adrian," I groaned, looking at my wreck of a room, and nearly collapsing as I identified the boy - my 'friend' - who'd caused it.

* * *

 _Hi guys. Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I've had it done for some time now, but I was waiting for Luna to post a new chapter to her story. I'm not sure what's going on at her end, but life's busy and I'm in no hurry for her to update. I just wanted to treat you all to a chapter since it's been so long._

 _My story is essentially over - there are about two chapters left, tops._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

There Adrian was, digging through my drawers and under the bed, frantically searching for… something. He was showing more humanity now than I could have ever imagined. He looked insanely worried about something, frantic, and I wondered what had caused that, but in the instant that he heard my voice he was in my space. His fingers dug into my shoulders and I winced, trying to pull away. "Nicollette," he whispered, his voice shaking terribly. His face was so close to my own that I could nearly taste his hot breath. "Where did you put them?"

I tried to pull away, but the stairs were right behind me and I couldn't step back. He wasn't particularly strong, but he was stronger than me and I really didn't have enough room to put up a fight. "Get off!" I shouted, stepping directly into him instead, and knocking Adrian into a pile of my clothing. "What the hell, Adrian! Do you know what you've done?" The consequences of his actions were just beginning to dawn on _me,_ really. I would have to clean this up or I would be in a lot of trouble for it. How would I explain away the destroyed vases?

"You don't understand," he said, rising quickly and standing over me in an instant. His voice was lower and frightening again, and I remembered the day I first met him, when I'd told him L's real name. He'd gotten so defensive, like he was afraid of me. Or afraid of what I knew. _What's he afraid of now?_ "Those books - I need them, Nik, I need them," he said, grabbing me by the shoulders again and making me feel manhandled and small.

"Books," I monotoned, thinking as I realized what _exactly_ he was after. "Books? You wrecked my house over manga? What's the matter with you, you…" I was screaming again and I felt my face flush with rage. My palm pressed into his chest to shove him away but he wouldn't move, and I clawed the side of his face with my nails until he grabbed my wrist. He squeezed it, hard, and I sobbed from a mixture of fear and anger and now, suddenly, pain.

He yanked my wrist and leaned over, so that he could whisper in my ear. Adrian's voice was largely normal now, but for his sense of urgency. His other hand held my arm and body in place so I couldn't move away, though I struggled against his hold. It was useless. Adrian was not a good person. I should have known it. He did, after all, claim to be L - and L was a rather horrible person, too. "Nik," he whispered, his lips nearly touching my ear. "I want those books. I need them. Now! Where are they?"

But I didn't understand. I was _beginning_ to understand - to understand that he was really who he said he was, even if my doubts were lasting. I was _beginning_ to understand how meeting Adrian would really change my life. But, even with both of those, I refused to understand why he wanted those books. Maybe he thought he could use them to save his life. But I didn't think about that. I was only enraged about the trouble he caused me, and I wanted him to suffer for it. "You want the freaking manga so bad? I trashed them, you fuck!" I don't think it was intentional, but he let go and I fell backwards down the stairs. Catching myself - that was it for my already abused wrist.

I let out a yelp as I landed, and then a short-lived howl, but Adrian ignored me in his maddened state, in his desperate search for self-preservation. "Stop it! I'm running out of time!" he gasped, hurrying down the stairs as I gingerly lifted myself from the ground and began to back towards the door. "Where are the books? I will leave. I promise."

"It wasn't a joke! I got rid of them," I hissed, though he didn't look surprised. He'd taken me seriously the first time I said so; his second try was just a desperate shot at getting those books. "Why don't you - buy your own!" I back out into the yard and began to turn, but Adrian was faster than me. He gripped my shoulder, and though it wasn't painful this time, I made noises of protest. I didn't want him near me for any reason. He had wrecked my life - absolutely _wrecked it._

"I can't buy my own," he whispered, lips practically on my ear again. I wondered why I hadn't seen him coming. Adrian believed he was a fictional character - he nearly made me believe that he was a fictional character. I should have known that he'd have some kind of psychotic break eventually. "I don't have time. Why, Nik. Why would you do that," he whispered, his questions not really questions, but his muttered grief at losing the books.

"Get away from me," I whispered uselessly, hoping he would let go of my shoulders and leave me to clean up the mess he made. I gave a halfhearted step back, but he his grip remained strong. Firm. "Let _go,_ " I whispered, and felt his hand beginning to shake against my shoulder, as if he was some kind of terrified child, forced into a life-or-death situation.

Of course, looking back on it, I know that's _exactly_ why he was acting that way. Whether I wanted to accept it or not, Adrian was exactly who he said he was. Maybe when he read the manga - about _himself_ \- he didn't believe it. But apparently that Beyond fellow had convinced him it was true, or else something else had, and now he was desperate. Desperate to save his own life. I would have been, too, but at the time I was far from sympathetic. "You threw them away," he muttered madly, to himself this time, though he still kept me from moving away. "Got rid of them…"

"Yes, I got rid of them," I said calmly, as if I might be able to ease his fear and irritation with my own cool and emotionless attitude. It was a facade, of course. I wouldn't say that I was scared - not of Adrian. But I was angry. Enraged, really. If I hadn't been trying so hard to hide my own anger, I would have added more claw marks besides the four on his face, which were pink and irritated.

It was then, after my own confirmation of what, to him, was a nightmare, his eyes lit up. He suddenly seemed back to his emotionless self. It was like his fear and frantics had dissolved into nothing. At first, I was relieved, but I looked into the dark pits of his eyes and realized that something was wrong before he even opened his mouth. His lips moved without sound for a second, and the Adrian stepped back, his hand still on my shoulder. "You will have to come with me, then. You will remember," he said confidently.

 _Oh my God, he's insane…_ He thought I was going to go _with_ him… wherever he was going. So that he could remember what happened in a manga… _really?_ I wasn't sure what he was thinking. I liked Death Note, sure, but I wasn't a huge fan. I hadn't read any spin-offs, or seen the movies. I had only seen bits of the anime. As for remembering every character and their stats, not to mention events, dates, and plans? No way. So even if he was L, I wouldn't exactly be useful. Of course, the way he was now, telling him that would do absolutely _nothing._ "No!" I cried, taking a step back.

"You can't refuse, Nik," he said hollowly. "I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry or even resigned. Adrian was just _firm,_ making it clear that I didn't really have a say in the matter. But I knew I couldn't go anywhere with him - he was insane. _I should have known it from the start,_ I told myself as I pulled away from his loose grip without warning and took three rapid, long strides away from him.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I replied. " _Ever._ " I was prepared to stand my ground. My shoulders were squared, my jaw clenched. if Adrian tried to hit me or knock me out, I'd surely lose the resulting fight, but I felt the need to at least look prepared. Besides, maybe he knew that I was being really serious and I wasn't at all uncertain about my answer, he'd back off. But then the 'L' thing popped into my head again. _If Adrian is L, or even if he just really thinks I'm L, he's probably been responsible for illegal things like kidnapping before. He thinks it's okay for him to do things like that. He 'knows' he can get away with it. So… he's dangerous right now. Really dangerous._ "And if you try and make me, people will know. You'll mess up and the cops will find both of us eventually. Is that what you want?"

Adrian swallowed determinedly and took a step forward, looking just as certain as I was if not moreso. I wondered if he'd hurt me - grab my arms and drag me wherever the hell he was so sure he needed to be. I wouldn't be able to fight him, especially if he was on some sort of adrenaline high - and he definitely was. It was as if he was convinced his life would be over if he didn't get those books or take a reliable source. _And if he's L,_ said that irritating, foolish, stupid voice-of-the-mystic within, _he will. Are you willing to sentence him to death, even if he's proven his spectacular ability to be a douchebag? Do you want his blood on your hands? He was your friend, even if that only lasted for a couple of days._

But the truth was that I didn't care anymore.

Here's the facts: humans are selfish by nature. Most of us will do anything to save ourselves. Most of us won't defend another person in the brink of attack, and most of us definitely won't make a decision that benefits someone else when we're afraid. I was no exception. So I looked at Adrian and I frowned at him, having taken less than a second that I was infinitely more valuable to myself than he was. I knew that if he took that last step forward, or made a grab for me, I would be forced to take rather drastic measures.

A small, rectangular bulge in my back pocket had gone forgotten for the last few, long minutes, but I certainly remembered it now. When had I even put that there?

Adrian let out a low exhale. His demeanor seemed to shift back to his usual deadpon, but his eyes glittered with the panic that he must have been unable to rid of himself. It was frightening. The whole situation was, of course, but that in particular was something I noticed. What decent person was able to shift faces so easily? Was he some kind of a pathological liar? If that was the case, he'd been acting the entire time, which meant I'd let some raging psychopath into my house while my foster parents were gone. And who could even _pretend_ to be calm at a time like this? None of this was right. This wasn't the persons I recognised as m friend. Could he really have been bluffing the entire time? Lying to me? I was close to bawling. Another betrayal - like the parents and the many friends that had abandoned me, Adrian was just a tease. "Your situation is not what it could be right now," he muttered softly, his voice and tone even, and just as eerily calm as his countenance.

"W-What?" I replied, slowly shuffling backwards. _Pathological liar. Psychopath. Fucking_ fictional character. _Get away._

He frowned at me, like he was disappointed or something. It was infuriating, but I couldn't comment. "There's no need for you to live here. If you'll help me, I can promise compensation."

 _Trying to use reasoning to appeal to me, hm?_ It wasn't working in his favor. After all, his statements didn't really add up. He was claiming to be a person that wasn't real in this universe, and that he needed help getting back to his universe. But if he wound up back in his universe, how was he supposed to provide 'compensation' - as if I really wanted that from _him,_ anyways? Besides that, what did he mean by compensation? That he'd buy me a house or something? Doubtful. There was no way that some sixteen-seventeenish guy was going to get me out of the situation I was now, even if I wanted that. There was no way that _Adrian_ had the power to do that. The idea was ludicrous. "That doesn't even make any sense, okay?" I snapped. "Stop, just stop. Leave. Haven't you caused me enough trouble? You're not a fictional character. You're real. Off your rocker, but real. A real teenage boy who has no power in the _real_ world at all."

"Why must you be impossible to reason with?" Adrian replied, almost mournfully.

"That was your idea of reasoning? Trashing my house and then offering me some impossible favor? Who the hell do you think you - _mmff._ "

I didn't see too much in the thirty second struggle that followed, but in the instant before Adrian grabbed me and put a hand over my nose and mouth - _then_ he looked resigned. Not even apologetic - just resigned. Irritated, even. For an instant I flailed, completely caught off guard by his sudden, panicked movements, _Who'd have thought Adrian could behave this way? He must be really scared._ But then I realized that I couldn't breathe. I had no intention of letting myself pass out, and in an instant, had whipped the neatly folded pocket knife from the back pocket of my hands.

Did I want to kill him? In the heat of the moment, I did indeed. But I had just enough wits about me that I knew it wasn't a good idea. I turned my head to loosen his grip and slashed at one of the white-sleeved arms in front of me. Adrian was fast, but not fast enough to avoid a tiny cut. It wasn't much - in fact, only a few drops of blood soaked through his shirt sleeve - but it was enough to make him jump back in unpleasant surprise, and enough to allow me to pull away.

"G-God," I muttered, holding it up defensively. Actually, I have no clue how I was holding it up. I didn't know much about fighting, after all. I just knew that my well-being was at risk. I had no doubt that Adrian wouldn't rape me or (purposely) kill me, but that still left too many terrifying possibilities. He was obviously a madman. What was I supposed to think?

 _Does that really look like the face of someone who's lying to you?_

It didn't. The only time I could ever remember L's face in the manga with any real expression was when he died. I remembered those wide grey orbs, full fear, not ready to die. I remembered that expression of shock. It was exactly the same look that crossed Adrian's face now. Except his was worse - he'd added grief. He thought he knew when he was going to die now, and he was probably around my age. He was grieving for the very brief life he believed himself to be doomed to - unless I helped him.

But, again - I am human, and humans are selfish. "Ho-How dare yooou," I sobbed. "How dare you! You freak!"

If it was possible to look visibly hurt by a word, that was it. It wasn't a 'wind-taken-out-of-his-sails' type thing, but a " _knocked_ -the-wind-out-of-his-sails' type. _Bullied as a child for that intellect of his?_ I didn't care.

It was horrible of me.

And it was horribly human of me.

 _I wonder if everyone else is a piece of shit like I am._

I want to make one single point incredibly clear. I wasn't sorry. I was so unimaginably _pissed._ I wanted to rip his throat out and the only thing stopping me was that I knew he'd fail. Between the fact that I'd been driven mad with doubt over my own 'realistic' stance and the fact that he had completely wrecked my foster family's home - not to mention that he had attracted a friend to my home, whose presence had resulted in direct harm to my person - I had decided to hate him. If a few moments had passed without interruption, in spite of my realization about his probable isolation and status as a victim throughout his childhood, there wouldn't have been any sort of of touching moment between us. I had little sympathy anyways. I was a victim too, after all, and nobody would ever catch me dead pulling this crap on someone else.

No, what I was planning to do was chase him off and then call the cops. Not exactly an awful fate for Adrian, but not exactly merciful, either, considering his mental state. He'd have wound up in a psych ward.

Unfortunately, there _was_ an interruption.

In the form of my foster parents' car rolling down the driveway.

* * *

 _First of all, I apologize for this mess of a chapter. I had a difficult time deciding exactly how to portray a panicked, young L, and also Nik is so incredibly angry that her train of thought gets totally bizarre towards the end. HARD TO WRITE HARD TO WRITE HARD TO WRITE KILL ME_

 _Anyways, the next chapter will be the last of_ this _story. It will probably be a lot shorter than the average chapter, but it's not an epilogue and I didn't want to pin it to the end of this one._

 _*whispers* Did you guys see Kung Fu Panda 3? I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN WAITING FOR THAT MOVIE FOR FIVE YEARS  
MY LIFE IS COMPLETE  
gawd why am I such a child_

 _Luna;; Ha, I feel you. Writing is fun but it can be super difficult at times, especially with other life issues. And lack of inspiration is the worst - it's why it takes me so long to update half the time._

 _Well, till next time!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

"Nicolette," sighed my caseworker, staring at me from across her desk. "You're really on a roll."

 _I am,_ I thought. _But I wouldn't have been if he'd just owned up instead of running off. Or maybe I would have just for having him there._

"You already had a track record," she told me, like she thought I didn't already know about my jumps from foster home to home because of the distance people felt from me on top of what they recognized as behavioral problems. All of those times, it was my fault. But I'd been dead set on staying in one place this time. This time, it wasn't my fault. It was his, for destroying my foster home and then fleeing the instant trouble seemed to come.

Perhaps it was because I hated him now, but I called him L. Perhaps it was because the name _Adrian_ was seared into my brain and I heard it often enough without ever saying it myself. Maybe it was because each syllable tasted foul and rotten on the tip of my tongue, and every time I thought of his tired, unaffected face I wanted to spit on it.

 _He didn't care, He probably still doesn't._

"... never anything like this," said Mrs. Schiller, shaking her head. She clicked a few things on her computer and shook her head, looking fake sad. She had always stricken me as the type of person who first came into the job young and eager, but after a few years, she didn't love it anymore. Maybe that was why all she could muster was that synthetic emotion that shone with dishonesty. But she didn't mean ill. Schiller just wasn't as personable as she probably should have been. "I never would have expected you to act like this. You're very lucky they aren't pressing charges."

I felt my heart seized with anger. _No._ I was unlucky that they'd come home from their trip early. I was unlucky that they'd ever left in the first place. I desperately wished to erase the last few days, though I knew it was impossible. Time didn't work like that; The world didn't.

The universe didn't.

"I know," I answered quietly, a tear pricking my eye and running down the side of my face.

"Luckily," said the woman, as though I'd never spoken at all, "I've managed to find a working solution."

She made it sound like she'd worked some kind of miracle or she'd solved a hopeless case. Was it really that bad? But it was. No one would want a wanderer known for destroying property in their house. It was a risk to their well-being and reputations. Besides, I was pretty sure I'd stayed in half the foster homes in North Carolina anyways. What if there was nothing left to do? Where would I be living this time? In the middle of the woods with some backwoods hick? Certainly not near the coast, where I could dig my feet into the wet sand and relish in the smell of the ocean. It had to be somewhere undesirable.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was a great place, and that was why she sounded so proud of herself.

"Where?" I asked desperately. "Who?"

She turned the screen of her computer so that I could see it. Red and silver text that seemed to blur in and out of focus as I realized what it was: some school. A live-in school, apparently."McEvan's Private Academy. It's a school that caters to troubled children."

"I'm not troubled," I said, though it was probably the biggest lie to come out of my mouth in weeks. I'd lied about Adrian, too, but that was by saying nothing.

"Dear, your father died and you were removed from your mother's care due to her substance abuse," she told me. If there was ever one thing that I had admired about Schiller, it was her bluntness, but now it just seemed insensitive. "You _are_ troubled, even if it isn't something you want to think about. You know that Dr. Coleman thinks that's why you act the way you do."

If I had more character, maybe I would have told her _fuck Dr, Coleman._ But I didn't. "That isn;t it," I told her. "And that was a long time ago. Ages. I want to move on."

"It's very possible to say something without meaning it, Nicolette," Mrs. Schiller informed me, suddenly all business. "Besides, you've already been accepted. The state has already paid for your first year of school."

"I -"

"You can't waste this opportunity. 'Troubled' aside, it's a very good school. You were a fantastic student once. It's time to make your comeback. Someday, you'll be under your own charge." Mrs. Schiller glared at me, daring me to disagree, but I didn't. It was a good chance to get my crap together, It was a good chance to get over everything that had happened this week - though, 'troubled' or not, no shrink would see hide nor hair of me. I'd have to go to college eventually. If I did well this year, maybe I could save myself.

"I know," I answered solemnly, making the choice even though I lacked one in the first place.

"Excellent," she said, turning back to the laptop. "Now, you'll be boarding your plane tomorrow, and once you arrive at the school, you'll have to talk with the guidance office to choose your courses -"

"Plane?" I asked. Maybe it was in Virginia or something.

Mrs. Schiller looked a little flustered. "Well, the school is in Los Ange -"

"That's in California," I snapped. The caseworker looked rather unimpressed with my geography, but I continued anyways. "Across the country."

"Well, yes," she agreed, "and if your stay there long enough, you become a ward of the state of California. But we will take care of the legal aspect of this, not to worry -"

"I don't _want_ to move that far away," I said, sounding on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum. I loved North Carolina. How could I be expected to go so far away from it?

"Beggars can't be choosers," she chirped, looking offended at my dismissal of her hard work.

"I'm not begging!" I snarled. "I just want to stay in the state. Or close. It that so much to ask?"

"As a matter of fact," Schiller told me sternly, "it is. Perhaps you don't realize just how difficult you've been, but this most recent incident was the straw that broke the camel's back. You were doing so well, but now no one wants to host you." She paused. "Don't complain anymore. I've worked hard to overcome your actions and this is the best I can do. Someday you'll see how fortunate you are;"

It was so harsh that I shut up. I couldn't even think clearly.

The very next day, I boarded a plane for the first time in my life,and to set out for a new one.

* * *

 _And here we are! Complete!_

 _If you;re interested to read the collab, please keep following this story. I'll post an update here when the collab is up. While you're waiting, check out This is Reality by Luna Bass. The links are on my profile (:_


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